


We're Just Simple Fools {Larry Stylinson}

by littleharrylover



Category: Harry Styles - Fandom, Larry Stylinson - Fandom, Louis Tomlinson - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: 1980s, 80sAU, California, Decades, F/M, Fanfic, Fanfiction, M/M, Soccer, harrystyles, larrystylinson, liampayne, louistomlinson - Freeform, onedirection, zaynmalik, ziam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:09:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 76,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22959952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleharrylover/pseuds/littleharrylover
Summary: "Louis is in love with this boy, this perfect, lovely boy. The boy with stars in his eyes and on his ceiling. The boy with a past dark enough to make Louis want to give him the brightest future."It’s 1982, and Louis Tomlinson is well on his way to be drafted to North American Soccer League. A senior in highschool, he has top grades, a girlfriend his parents love, friends he adores… and a secret. A secret that would ruin him if it got out.That is, until Harry comes along.Harry Styles is made of pure starlight, flamboyant and colorful, intense and beautiful. He walks into a room and commands attention from everyone, Louis included. But as with all beautiful things, the rumours fly, and not all things are as crystal clear as they seem
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Liam Payne/Zayn Malik
Comments: 68
Kudos: 112





	1. 'How Soon Is Now' - The Smiths

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello and welcome!  
> this fic was begun sometime around 2014, started up again in 2016, and i’m finally deciding to edit and finish it now. it’s hopefully all going to blend and work together, so i hope you all love it as much as i do.  
> if you’d like to follow along with a soundtrack, the spotify link is at the bottom of this note.  
> tpwk.
> 
> ~a
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4tiA7FaBCRcWGMXL5pw57c?si=ZJ3whC3BRtKFdriExhxsHQ

\- - -

“Louis.”  
“Louis.”  
 _“Louis!”_

Louis jerks his head up off of his arms, blinking blearily as he gets shaken by an unknown hand. He hears the quiet whir of ceiling fans, the low murmur of people’s voices, and his eyes settle on the person standing in front of him, arms crossed.  
“Hey, Li.” Louis stretches, wincing as he feels his back crack, and Liam scowls, rolling his eyes. “Louis, you missed all of last period.” Louis’ eyes widen as Liam speaks, and he looks around frantically.

 _Shit._ He’s still in the library, surrounded by books and papers, and now Liam is standing over him, gathering up his things.

“You’ve never done this before, Lou. I think you’re finally burning yourself out.” Liam places the books in a stack in front of Louis, and Louis runs a hand through his hair, which is getting long and shaggy.

“Nah, I just pulled a late night last night. What time is it? I can catch Ms. Smith before she heads to lunch.” Louis tugs his rucksack onto the chair next to him as he hurriedly shoves his books and folders into it, and Liam leans on the table, glancing at his watch on his wrist.

“Only about ten after noon. Zayn, Oli and I were thinking of going bowling after practice. You in?” Louis looks up at his best friend, whose brown eyes are shadowed by a tattered old baseball cap, and Liam is fidgeting with the snaps on his leather varsity jacket.

Louis shrugs, and stands, swinging the sack over his shoulders. “I’ll have to see what El is doing tonight. Are you bringing anyone?” Louis begins walking to the exit, and Liam trots along beside him as he hums in affirmation.

“Well, I’ll either see you there or I won’t. My mom may have me stay in tonight.” Louis pushes the door open as he speaks, and Liam groans.

“C’mon, Louis, your mom’s been your excuse for a week now.Tell her you need your space, you’re a growing man!” Liam waves a hand in Louis’ face belligerently, and Louis grabs it, wrestling it away with a laugh.

“I’ll try, but I’m making no promises.” Louis grins at Liam, who snorts and rolls his eyes, yanking his hand back toward himself.

“Fine. If you’re gonna be there, be there at 6. Pizza on me.” Liam heads down the hallway towards the lunchroom, pointing at Louis as he walks, and Louis waves him off, grin settling into a small but happy smile on his face. 

Louis walks towards his teacher’s room, the squeak of his sneakers echoing in the almost empty hallway. He nods to another student as he passes, and readjusts his rucksack as he continues. 

All of his days are basically the same, now. He’ll wake up ten minutes before he needs to leave, rush through his getting-ready process, grab an apple or a slice of bread from the counter, and head to school on his old hand-me-down bike that screams when he tries to brake. He’ll lock his bike at the rack, say hello to his friends who will be waiting in their usual spot in front of the school, and they’ll walk in together, a force of nature that anyone in the building would and should be wary of. 

Liam is the school’s head quarterback on their football team, and has brought them to playoffs every season. He’s had colleges scouting him since their sophomore year, and Louis already knows he’ll be in the NFL someday.

Louis’ girlfriend Eleanor is a cheerleader for the team, as is Liam’s sort-of girlfriend, Sophia.

Louis chews at his lip as he thinks about Eleanor, and shakes away the nagging feeling he gets at the back of his head, ignoring that in favor of thinking about his own sport: soccer. 

Louis loves the Friday night lights, but it’s nothing compared to how he feels on a soccer field.

Louis is captain of the soccer team, and has dreamed of playing in the North American Soccer League for years. He doesn’t care what team, he doesn’t care where he’d have to go.

He’s been playing since he was thrown into a junior team as a little 4th grader, and he hasn’t stopped since. He’s brought the school the most titles they’ve ever had, almost rivalling the football team. 

Oli is also on the school team, but doesn’t care as much as Louis. As he always says, Oli is “just there for wherever the wind takes him”, and Louis is grateful for him. He keeps the mood light, and the group is always laughing with him around. 

Zayn is the odd one out in their little gang. An artsy, musical type, Zayn is quiet, calculating of everything. He’s been the source for all the weed they’ve ever smoked, and Louis doesn’t want to find out where he gets it, only that he does get it.

Living in California in 1982, it isn’t exactly hard to find, but Louis can’t risk his academic ratings. Zayn, however, plans on moving to San Francisco upon graduation and working as a freelance artist, so he’s at no risk. 

Louis thinks of his friends fondly as he approaches his teachers door, and raps on it with his knuckles. They’ve all known each other since grade school and he wouldn’t be anywhere without them. They’ve had their ups and downs, but they’ve gotten each other through it all. Their senior year is flying by, with all of them looking at different colleges in different towns across the country, and Louis is almost dreading leaving their dinky little town.

He opens the door in front of him upon hearing his teacher’s voice, and he prepares himself to suck up to her with a smile and a well-rehearsed spiel. 

He decides that he’s going to go out with his friends tonight, and have a damn good time doing it. After a week and a half of the shit he’s been working with, he deserves it.

He’ll deal with that nagging feeling he still has at some point. Just… not now. 


	2. 'Drive' - The Cars

\- - -

Louis pushes his wet hair out of his eyes as he exits the showers, the voices of his teammates echoing across the locker room. He keeps his towel tightly wrapped around his waist as he walks, and makes his way to his locker.

Slipping his briefs on under the towel, he shivers as the cold from the floor seeps into his feet, and he rushes to tug his sweatpants on.

He starts as a hand claps on his shoulder, and he whips around, only to see Oli standing in front of him, a dorkish grin on his face as he delights in Louis’ surprise.

“Fuck me, Oliver. How many times do I have to tell you before I end up socking you in the face?” Louis groans, and Oli cackles, tossing his red hair back.

“It never gets old, Lewis. Hey, you coming tonight? Liam’s buying pizza, and Claire won’t come with me unless Eleanor goes, and she never goes anywhere without you, so-”

Louis cuts him off with a nod and a wave of his hand. “Yeah, I’m coming. Now leave me alone, I have to hurry and get home before the girls do.” Louis pulls his shirt over his head, and he hears Oli snort as he walks away, and Louis sighs, looking at the open locker in front of him.

His eyes land on the picture of him and Eleanor he has taped on the door, and he stares at his face in the photo.

The feeling in his head is getting harder to ignore, and he hates himself for it. He looks at his fluffy hair, wide eyes, and chaotic grin, and then looks at his girlfriend’s face.

He blinks as he sees her, and a frown puckers his brow as he feels… nothing.

The scowl grows on his face, and he yanks his sweatshirt and rucksack out of the locker and slams the door behind him.

Slipping his feet into his old, beat up sneakers, he pulls his sweatshirt over his head before heading quickly to the exit, waving goodbye at the various voices calling his name.

The town had fallen for the indian summer, and he inhales the smell of barbeque grilling coming from the subdivision adjacent to the school as he grabs his bike from the rack.

He can hear childrens’ voices from the park he rides past, and he settles in his seat as the warm air rushes over his face. California never gets very cold, but he loves autumn the most. He loves when the leaves change color, he loves the cooling air, he loves the holidays, he loves it all.

They were already 6 weeks into their senior year, and this fall feels different. Aside from it being their last one in highschool, Louis has a good feeling about this year.

Louis skids to a stop in front of his house, and leans his bike inside the white fence bordering the small family home. Their house hardly fits all 9 of them, but they make it work.

As Louis opens the front door, he can hear voices in the living room. “Hey, I’m home! Sorry I’m a little late, practice ran long again.” Louis tosses his bag to the side as he walks into the kitchen, smelling fresh baking, and he smiles as he sees a heaping plate of cookies fresh on the counter.

“Who baked?” he asks as he stuffs a cookie into his mouth, and, grabbing a few for the road, heads into the living room. He blinks as he sees an unknown woman sitting on the armchair next to his mother, who turns to look at him with a smile.

“Louis, this is Anne Twist, her and her family just moved in a few doors down.” Joanna raises an eyebrow as she takes in Louis’ appearance, and he swallows the cookie as he nods at Anne.

“Nice to meet you, ma’am. Sorry I’m a mess, just came from soccer practice.” Anne shakes her head with a smile. “Don’t apologize on my behalf. Are you graduating this year?” she asks, voice soft and kind, and Joanna nods, looking at Louis with a fond smile.

“That he is. My first baby, already graduating highschool. Where does the time go?” she reaches a hand out to Louis, who takes it with a sheepish smile. “You decided to blink.” he teases, and Anne laughs.

“Blink indeed. My daughter, the oldest, graduated a few years back, and my son is a junior this year. You most likely will be seeing him sometime next week, but my, how quick the years go.”

Louis notices a hint of sadness in her words, and he nods. “Sorry, but I’ve got to get going. Nice to meet you, Mrs Twist.” Louis says cheerily, and squeezed his mother’s hand.

“See ya, mom.” Louis leans in to kiss the top of her head, to which Joanna reacted with a giggle and a smile. “Be safe, Lou. I love you.”

Her words follow him as he heads up the stairs two at a time, and he raps on the bathroom door as he passes it. He hears Lottie’s voice screech at him, and he smirks, pushing his bedroom door open.

He hasn’t really changed it since he was younger, the same firefighter sheets and plush pillows littering his twin sized bed. Tugging his shirt over his head, he looks around his room.

His blue walls are covered with album covers, photos, medals, and scholastic achievement awards, and he smiles, grabbing a polo from the full laundry bin he still has yet to put away. He checks the clock, and curses under his breath as he sees the time.

Louis hears the phone ring just then, and as he strips off his dirty sweats and searches for a pair of jeans, he can almost guarantee who it’s for.

“Louis, it’s for you! Hurry, I’m waiting for a call!” Lottie’s voice called up the stairs. “I’m coming, gimme a minute.” Louis frantically looks for his jeans that he knows were here this morning, and huffs as he sees them hanging over his desk chair.

Hopping around as he yanks them on, he grabs his wallet and varsity jacket from his desk and speeds out of the room.

He hears voices downstairs, and he sees Lottie standing impatiently over the phone.

“Louis, hurry, I’m waiting for Jenny to call so I know if we’re seeing a movie tonight or not. Annie’s playing at the Cinemax.” Lottie moans as she hands him the receiver, and he rolls his eyes at her.

“Hello?” he leans against the wall, trying to catch his breath, and he hears his girlfriend giggle from the other end of the line. “Hiya. You coming tonight?”

Eleanor’s voice is soft and pretty, matching her personality (and looks. Louis’ not going to lie, he definitely has the prettiest girlfriend in the senior class. Even things are… weird in his mind right now, he can admit it).

“Yeah, planning on it. Are you driving?” Louis gestures for Lottie to grab his sneakers from the doorway, and Lottie grumbles but obliges. “Yeah, I’m picking up Sophia in a few minutes.” Eleanor confirms, and Louis slips on his sneakers.

“Do you want me to grab you too?” he hears her ask, and he hums, tying his shoelaces. “No, it’s alright, I’ll bike over. My mom might not be keen on me being out long.” he hears Eleanor sigh as he speaks.

“Alright. I’ll see you soon, then.” she says, and they stay silent for a moment or two, until Louis hears Lottie clear her throat.

“Yeah. I’ll see you there. Thanks, though.” he says. “I’ll see you… love you.” Louis winces as her words come over the line, and panic flashes in his mind.

“Yeah.. love you too. Bye.” he says, rushed, and hangs up the line. He steps away from the phone, and stares at his feet as Lottie takes up her post by the line again, flipping through a magazine as she looks at Louis with a preteen’s disdain.

Louis is feeling the feeling in the back of his head again.

Or maybe it just never left.


	3. ‘Boys Don’t Cry’ - The Cure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello all! 
> 
> just a quick note: there is a homophobic slur used in this chapter (I will update each chapter based on if one is used). If that upsets you, you can skip the last 2 paragraphs of the chapter. It is the 80s, and back then the LGBTQ+ community was still extremely marginalized, which means language like this was fairly common. I do not condone this speech, but as an author it’s important to me to be authentic to the times and places I use in my stories. 
> 
> Thank you for understanding, and I hope you’ll stick along for the rest of the ride. ♡

_ _ _

“Hey, Louis!” Louis grins as he sees his friends, already taking residence at a lane, and he trots up to them. “Well hey, pals.” He claps Liam’s hand as he passes, and Zayn smiles up at him from his perch on the table.

“Long time no see, wasn’t sure if your mother was gonna let you out.” Zayn’s voice is laid back and familiar, and Louis grabs him into a hug. “It’s only been a week of this. I think reality is setting in for her, now.” Louis sighs, and Zayn chuckles, patting his back.

“We don’t graduate until May, we have a whole 8 months. She needs to just… chill.” Liam is lounging on one of the benches as he speaks, with his legs resting on Oli’s lap, and Louis rolls his eyes.  
“Let her have it, boys. Better now than later.” He hops on the table next to Zayn, and Oli laughs. “Imagine her when you’re thirty and married. You and El are gonna have your hands full with her.” Oli teases, and Louis looks down with a bitter smile as the others laugh with him. 

He knows what everyone expects. They’ve been dating for all of high school, they’ll most likely date all through college, and Louis will no doubt ask her to marry him when they graduate (or before, who knows). They’ll live in a house in the suburbs, have three to five kids, and he’ll work a boring 9-5 job until he retires (or dies).

He knows what everyone expects, and he fucking hates it.  
  
Louis looks back up as he hears more familiar voices, and he sees Eleanor and Sophia walking in the doorway, and Liam jumps up, a huge grin on his dorky face as he grabs his girlfriend in his arms, earning a squeal from the bubbly brunette.

  
Louis hears Zayn sigh softly, and he looks at Zayn, who is staring at the scene in front of them with a look full of an

emotion that Louis can’t quite figure out. Zayn turns to meet Louis’ eyes, and gives him a small smile, then hops off the table. “I’m going to grab us some drinks. Be right back.” Zayn pinches Louis’ cheek as he leaves, and Oli smacks at Zayn’s backside as he walks past.

“What’s with him? He’s gone glum all of a sudden.” Oli asks as he watches Zayn walk away, and Louis shrugs, finally looking up as Eleanor approaches, followed closely by Liam, who has Sophia tucked securely under his arm.

Louis smiles at Eleanor, who smiles back, and leans in for a kiss. Louis obliges, and grabs her hand as she leans on the table next to him.  
“You alright?” He asks her, meeting her brown eyes that are looking at him inquisitively, and she nods. “Yeah. Are you? You’ve been kind of moody the last couple days.” Eleanor squeezes his hand as she speaks, and Louis laughs under his breath.

“You know how it goes. Mom and the kids, school. Just a lot on my plate.” Louis lifts his arm to wrap it around Eleanor’s shoulders, and she settles in next to him, seeming to be satisfied with the answer she got.  
  
Louis looks around them at the bustling bowling alley, and breathes in the smell of grease, bowling shoes, and plastic. He hears the jukebox playing some new tune he hasn’t heard before, and he sees kids from their school milling around, laughing, eating, smoking.

  
He has a lot of memories in this place. He had his 12th birthday here, he’s been on a million dates with Eleanor here, and he and his friends have broken every lane at least once.

This place is comforting. Normal. It’s in his top three favorite places, second only to the record store and the cliffs. Nothing ever changes here, in this tiny town, and the bowling alley is no exception.

Louis suddenly remembers that Zayn’s been gone a while, and he looks around for him. Louis’ brow furrows when he can’t see him, and he’s craning his neck to see across the long room to the concession booth when he spots Zayn’s familiar bomber jacket.  
Zayn is standing, talking to someone closely, but Louis doesn’t recognize the person.

The kid is tall, taller than Zayn by at least two or three inches, and has long, brown hair that’s tied up into a sort of bun, a braid hanging over one ear, and Louis cocks an eyebrow.

  
He watches as Zayn leans in towards the kid, laughing, and Louis blinks. He hasn’t seen Zayn openly laugh with someone. Ever. And now he’s there, laughing with a kid in abnormally tight pants, a brightly patterned shirt and a man bun.  
Sounds about right, Louis thinks to himself with a small snort, but he finds himself watching this newcomer with a close glance.  
  
Then, Zayn gestures over to the table where Louis sits, and they turn to face him. Louis’ heart drops to his feet as he meets the boy’s eyes (which he can see are a shade of green), and Louis feels his chest tighten as the boy gives him a small, quirky smile.

_What. The. Fuck._

Louis tightens his grip on Eleanor, as if to chase the thoughts that suddenly came pouring in from all directions out of his mind.

_What. The. Fuck_.

Louis blinks as Zayn and the unknown boy begin walking towards them, hands full of plastic jugs, and he feels his heartbeat pick up.

_What. The. Fuck_.

“Hey, who’s the guy with Zayn? Kinda looks like a fairy, doesn’t he?” Oli snorts, and Louis’ breath hitches as Liam groans, socking Oli in the side. He hadn’t even fully processed what Oli had said before Zayn was approaching them, placing the jugs in the table.

“Hey fellas, this is Harry. Him and his family just moved here from out East, he’ll be in school with us on Monday.” Zayn gestures to the unknown boy, who is now smiling at them all, and who now has a name.

A name that is echoing in Louis’ seemingly empty head.  
  
 _harryharryharryharryharryharryharryharry_

“Hey bro! Liam.” Liam extends a hand, and Harry takes it, shaking it with a hand that Louis can now see is covered in large, elaborate rings.

“Harry. Nice to meet you.” His voice is deep, with a slow drawl that Louis wants to hear more of. Oli nods at him, waving from where he’s still lying on the bench. “Oli. You’re from out east? Where at?” Oli sits up, and Harry leans, arms crossed, against the wall behind them as he answers. “New York. About an hour out of the city.”

Sophia gasps from where she’s seated on Liam’s lap, and she claps her hands in excitement. “Oh my god. Did you ever see anyone famous? Or did you see any broadway? I’ve wanted to see a show on broadway my whole life.” she says, voice wonton, and Harry grins, nodding.

_What. The. Fuck_.  
  
Louis stares at the new boy for a moment longer, until Eleanor holds her own hand out for him to shake. “Eleanor. And this is my boyfriend, Louis.” Louis blinks out of his reverie to see Harry looking at him, and he feels like a deer in the headlights as he’s now the subject of Harry’s attention. “Nice to meet you, Louis. I’m Harry.”

Louis takes the boy’s (freakishly abnormally wonderfully horribly large) hand, and notifies a tattoo there.  
Great. A hippie type with long hair and tattoos. Just the type of person he needs in his life.  
  
Louis looks at the boy standing in front of him, and his eyes lock with Harry’s soft green ones. Harry gives him another small smile, and squeezes his hand once before he leans away, turning back to Zayn as he speaks. Louis stares at his hand, where it feels like it’s on fire from where Harry touched it.

_What. The. Fuck_.

Louis feels like he’s underwater. All the sounds around him are blurring and blending, mixing together until it’s altogether too loud for him to handle. He can feel his insides begin to ache, and his chest get tight.

He needs to leave.  
  
Louis pulls his arm away from Eleanor, who protests, and pushes himself off the table. He begins quickly walking to the exit as he hears his friends call after him. “Louis? Where ya going?” He can hear the confusion in Liam’s voice, and Louis waves him away.

“Just- I’ll just be right back.” Louis’ voice feels tight in his throat, and he feels like everyone’s eyes are on him as he roughly pushes the door open and steps into the cool night.

Louis feels like there isn’t enough air in his lungs as he paces outside the bowling alley.  
He feels like he’s somehow dirty, grimy, sweaty, and he inhales shakily, running a hand through his hair.  
Whatever he’s feeling right now is a feeling that he’s never felt before in his life.  
And it was brought on by…

Harry.

This new kid from New York, with long hair and braids and tattoos who wears rings and flowery shirts and ungodly tight jeans, is making Louis feel things that he has been convincing himself it was impossible to feel, and Louis doesn’t know what to do.  
  
With a soft sob, Louis wraps his arms around himself and leans against the brick wall of the bowling alley, and slides to the ground, feet crunching in the dry grass.

He breathes in and out, staring at the street lamps that have flickered on in the dying sunlight. He can feel his nose begin to sting as the air gets colder, and he feels his stomach turning.  
  
He’s read the papers.  
He’s seen the segments on tv.  
He knows what’s going on.  
He knows. 

But it can’t be him.

He can’t be part of it all.

Louis thinks back to a week ago when news broke about an AIDS case less than 30 miles from their town. It was like the world was ending. Louis can remember the buzzing in the hallway, the hushed conversations that the adults would be having, the growing cloud over the population.  
Louis remembers going home that night and hearing his stepfather cursing, sayings things like “the faggots should be in prison”, and that they “ought to be able to kill them on the spot”, and Louis remembers his mother trying to calm him.  
Louis remembers her soft nurse voice, giving reason and logic, and he remembers sitting at the top of the stairs, listening.

Louis cannot be a part of that.  
Their town is small, and has been run the same way for a hundred years. There is no room for anything new, but now…

Now, there’s Harry.  
  
And with Harry will bring a wave unlike anything the town has seen before. Louis doesn’t even know more about the boy than his name and where he’s from, but he knows.  
He knows what’s coming, and it scares him.

But, for a reason that Louis can’t put a finger on, he’s scared for Harry.  
He wants to protect him, to keep him away from the bigots and the assholes who all seem to come out of the woodwork when anything new threatens their way of life.

And that? That is what scares Louis the most.


	4. 'Every Breath You Take' - The Police

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER TW: slurs

_ _ _

Louis is late. 

He couldn’t sleep the night before, his mind full of thoughts racing in and out, and when he finally did fall asleep, he slept through his alarm, and probably would have slept through the morning had his mother not banged on his door before she left for work. 

Louis, having definitely missed homeroom, is hurriedly locking his bike at the rack when, out of the corner of his eye, he sees a bright, metallic blue car parked a few spots down.

His eyebrows raise as he sees the Pontiac Firebird glistening in the sunlight, and he takes a few steps towards it, curious.

He sees tapes littering the dashboard, but as he leans closer to inspect, he hears the shrill ringing of the period bell, and he curses, spinning around and racing into the building. 

His sneakers skid against the tile, and he mutters to himself as he slows down, approaching his classroom. He takes a few deep breaths, readjusts his pullover, and runs a hand through his unbrushed hair as he pushes the door open.

“Ah, Mr. Tomlinson, nice of you to join us. Come on in, take your seat.” his English teacher gives him a smirk as she speaks, and Louis flashes her a quick, apologetic smile, making his way to his spot a few rows from the front. 

As he sits in his seat, he looks up to check out the board, and - 

Louis’ heart drops to the floor, through the cement, through the entirety of Earth’s crust as he sees long, curly hair sitting in the second row.

He stares in front of him, his whole body feeling frozen and stiff, and he feels his hands ball into fists. 

_No. This cannot be happening. No no no no no._

“Alright, as I was saying before Mr. Tomlinson decided to interrupt, I’m sure you’ve all noticed a new face in our crowd. Mr. Styles, would you like to say a few words about yourself?” their teacher leans against her desk, smiling at Harry, who shrugs, turning to face the class. 

Louis feels his face get hot. _Nononononononononono._

“Um. Hi, I’m Harry. Just moved here from New York. I’m actually a junior, but I, ah. Placed at a higher English level, so here I am.” Harry has a small smile on his face as he scans the room, and Louis can hear the quiet, mixed reactions coming from the class.

Louis digs his nails further into his palms as Harry’s eyes come to rest on him, and he watches the corners of Harry’s mouth tweak up, almost imperceptibly. Louis feels like time is standing still, and he inhales slowly, staring right back, keeping his face loose and (hopefully) emotionless.

He’s snapped back to reality as he hears the teacher begin talking again, and Harry turns to face the front. 

Louis feels a tap at his arm, and he turns his head slightly to see Liam, an eyebrow raised.

“Hey, you good? Second time you’ve been late.” Liam’s voice is quietly concerned, and Louis nods, slouching a little lower in his seat, eyes flicking between the teacher and Harry.

“Yeah. Just a lot going on.” Louis whispers, and Liam squeezes his shoulder and leans away. Liam is his best friend, and Louis knows that he won’t believe him for long, if at all. 

Louis’ eyes stay on Harry, and takes in today’s ensemble. Harry has another flowy shirt on, with a fabric scarf draped around his neck.

His pants are significantly looser than they were at the bowling alley, with embroidery at the bottoms, and Louis can see what looks like boots peeking out from underneath the jean material. 

He squeezes his eyes shut, and takes a deep breath in, focusing his eyes on the front of the room when he opens them, and forces his eyes to stay there, and not get drawn back to the boy who’s twirling a pencil and tapping his toes to a nonexistent beat. 

Louis doesn’t look at Harry for the rest of the period, and as the bell rings he’s one of the first out the door. 

He hears the voices of his classmates behind him, and he quickly walks to his locker. He feels the cold metal against his forehead as he leans on it, and he exhales in a huff, spinning the combination into the lock and swinging the door open.

He’s reaching in to grab one of his books for his next class when he sees a folded piece of bright red paper, and he unfolds it, quickly scanning the words on it. 

Louis jumps as there’s suddenly a bang on the locker next to him, and he jerks around as Oli’s laugh peals over the chaotic hallway.

“Fucking hell, Oliver.” Louis groans, and he sends a punch towards Oli's chest. The redheaded boy dodges it easily, and gestures to the paper Louis still has in his hands.

“I see you got the party paper too. Did you catch where the address is?” Oli grins, and Louis double checks, and his eyebrows raise. 

“Damn. A party at Dapper Drive? Count me in.” Louis smirks as he speaks, and he feels a piece of himself relax.

A party is just what he needs, and an exclusive party at one of the richer subdivisions in their town is the best place to drink and forget about his issues. 

For a night, he can be away from school, and his life, and Ha- 

“Did ya hear that Harry Styles got one too? Barely been here a day and he’s already taking over. Who woulda thought that, especially him being who he is.” Oli’s voice is slightly incredulous, with a hint of annoyance, and Louis fights the urge to scream.

“He did?” Louis asks through gritted teeth, and Oli nods. “Yup. Hannah Weatherford handed one to him right after homeroom. One of the only juniors invited, somebody must like him.” Oli fiddles with his jacket sleeves as he watches students pass, and Louis stares into his locker, unmoving. 

He should have known this would happen. 

Everyone here is the same, looks the same, dresses the same, acts the same. 

Harry is new, pretty, and different. 

Louis can hear the whispers flying during his next few classes. Rumors spread faster than wildfires in this school, and they’ve created monsters out of less than this. 

_He has to be gay._

_Who would let a faggot into our school?_

_He’s from New York, aren’t they all artists there?_

_He has to be a criminal, why else would he be here?_

_Hannah invited him to the red paper party, he can’t be all bad._

_What if he… you know. Has it?_

Louis forces himself to keep his cool as his last period before lunch comes to an end, and again, he's one of the first people out of the room.

For some reason today, sitting in a classroom and hearing the words coming from these people has been more excruciating than sitting on a chair made of nails.

He makes his way to the lunchroom absently, chewing on his fingernails as he walks in amidst the loud chaos. He sees his friends sitting at their usual table, and he tosses his rucksack on the ground next to his spot. 

“Hi, Lou. You seem off.” He turns his head to see Eleanor next to him, watching him with an unreadable expression. 

Louis doesn’t like that he can’t read it.

“Well, thanks for that. I absolutely love hearing how off I look, what a boost to my ego.” Louis’ voice comes out a bit snappier than he intended, and he winces as he sees Eleanor’s hurt expression, and he sighs, grabbing her hand.

“I’m sorry. It’s been a pretty bad day. I didn’t mean it.” he smiles at her as he speaks, and Eleanor squeezes his hand. “It’s okay. I understand. You know I’m here if you need me.” she says, her voice soft and kind, and Louis leans over to press a kiss to her cheek.

He really does love Eleanor. 

How can he not? They’ve been friends for years, and have dated since they were freshmen. 

But, at the same time, it’s been getting harder and harder to be around her, forcing himself to hold her hand and kiss her and have sex with her, all the necessary components to a normal, healthy relationship.

He’s tried talking to Zayn and Liam about it before, but it just got too awkward. He wouldn’t dare talk to either of his parents about it, and his sisters are too young to understand. 

So, he’s dealt with it the best way he knows how: ignoring it. In true Louis fashion, he’s been ignoring it, and putting it off, and pretending that whatever is going on in his head isn’t going on, and that he’s just a normal, average highschool student, doing normal, average highschool things, and definitely not worried about-

“Harry!” Eleanor calls, and Louis’ head shoots up. He inwardly groans as he sees Zayn walking up to the table, Harry and Liam in tow, the latter talking loudly and gesturing, while Harry looks on, grinning like a madman. 

Louis can’t look away. 

The boy’s smile is like pure sunlight, addictive and bright, and he can tell that Liam and Zayn are taken with him as well.

“Hey, kids. You behaving over here?” Liam wraps an arm around Eleanor’s shoulders, and she giggles, pushing him away.

“That’s the question we ought to be asking you. Corrupting the new guy already? C’mon, Zayn, I thought you’d know better than to let this happen.” Eleanor teases, and Zayn grins, shrugging as he sits in his usual spot next to Louis.

“It was out of my hands. You know how Liam is.” Zayn sets his sack lunch on the table as he speaks, and Liam flips him off with a snort.

“I’m welcoming, Zayn. Unlike some people, I prefer to actually have friends.” Liam sits, and motions for Harry, who was silently watching with a smile still on his face, to follow suit.

Louis watches him as he sits next to Liam, pushing his curls off of his forehead as he scoots his chair close to the table. 

“So, Harold. Enjoy your first few classes? Anything fun happen?” Zayn props his elbows on the table as he directs the question to Harry, and Louis wonders when they got on nickname basis.

Harry shrugs. “Nothing too out of the ordinary. Everyone seems pretty cool. Teachers are nice. I’m wanted for the drama department, apparently. They think I’d be good with costumes.” Harry chuckles, and Liam lets out a loud cackle. 

“I swear, they’re like vultures. One time Eleanor showed up with a new blouse, and they treated her like she was a fashion icon. I can only imagine what they’d do with you.” Liam flicks Harry’s arm as he speaks, and Louis watches as Harry shakes his head, still smiling despite Liam’s ribbing. 

“Actually, I might take them up on it. Sounds like a fun time.” Louis watches Harry closely as he speaks, and he watches as Harry begins to fiddle with the rings on his fingers.

Liam and Zayn exchange a look, and Zayn shrugs. “Don’t let Liam get to you. He’s just mad because Shelly Crowe wouldn’t sleep with him last year and he’s still sore over it.” Zayn winks at Liam, who protests. 

Louis tunes them out, his focus drawing fully to Harry. He’s sitting almost as close to him as he was at the bowling alley, and he feels like his body is stinging. His hand is still clutched in Eleanor’s, and he fights the urge to yank it away. 

Louis watches as Harry’s eyes flick in between Zayn and Liam, occasionally grinning at something that’s being said, but mostly staying silent.

Louis hasn’t met anyone like Harry before. He seemed to slip right into their circle, without any sort of warning. It feels like he’s been a part of this school, this town, this life, forever. 

Louis finds his eyes resting on Harry’s hands. He stares at the rings that Harry has twisted around his fingers, he stares at the small cross tattoo that’s placed just above Harry’s left thumb, he stares at the ink marks that are on Harry’s fingertips. 

He’s never felt like this about hands.

He’s never felt like this about anything. 

“Hey, where’s Oli? Anyone seen him today?” Liam’s question comes cutting through Louis’ trance, and Louis lifts his eyes to see Liam looking around the lunchroom. 

Zayn and Eleanor shake their heads. “Haven’t seen him since homeroom.” Eleanor is chewing on a carrot stick as she speaks, and Liam furrows his brow. 

“I saw him after first period. We talked about the red paper party, then he dipped. Haven’t seen him since.” Louis’ voice sounds foreign to him, and he’s all too aware of Harry’s eyes on him now.

“What is that, exactly? I got a paper after homeroom. I, uh. I’m not sure why.” Harry’s voice sends a spark down Louis’ spine, and he hesitantly lets his eyes look to Harry, who’s now rustling through his backpack.

“It’s a party for exclusives. Only people with red papers are allowed to get in.” Louis attempts to keep his voice casual, but he feels like the tremors in his voice are all too noticeable. 

Harry places his paper on the table with a nod, and Liam takes it from him. “Yep, this is definitely it. Look at you go, Mr. Styles, a red paper party on your first day.” Liam claps Harry on the shoulder, and Harry chuckles, taking the paper back and tucking it away into his shirt pocket.

“Go me.” Harry’s voice is soft, and his lips purse together for a moment before turning back to Zayn. 

Louis feels the abandoned panic rising in his chest again, and he fights it. He isn’t going to let this kid get to him anymore, he decides.

He lifts his arm and wraps it around Eleanor’s shoulders, almost as if he was daring himself to. Harry glances at him, and Louis sees Harry’s eyebrow quirk up for a split second before he looks away again. 

Louis is choosing to ignore it, tightening his grip on Eleanor’s shoulders as she cuddles into his side, placing her hand on his lap in a way that he should be into. 

He tunes the rest of the lunchroom out, and tries to ignore the pit building in his stomach. 

There’s no practice for the soccer team today, which means Louis’ afternoon is wide open. Their coaches are out of town at a conference and won’t be back until tomorrow, but they left explicit instructions to the team that they’d just do double the work.

Louis walks out of the school in a crowd of other students, and sees Oli’s bright red hair parting the sea in front of him. Louis waves, and Oli runs over, an excited grin spread over his face.

“Fuck, Louis, guess what.” Oli grabs Louis’ shoulders and gives him a shake as he speaks, and Louis laughs, walking towards the bike rack.

“You just found out that your mom’s tits are fake?” he teases, and Oli scowls.

“No, you prick. They’re not, but that’s not important.” Oli is practically buzzing next to him, and Louis shakes his head. “Then I have no idea.” Louis focuses on undoing the lock as he speaks, and Oli huffs.

“So I went to the shop for lunch, just cause I felt like it, and guess who happened to be back there? Old man Waterson himself.” 

Louis blinks in surprise. Their mayor is seldom seen around the town, which is ironic, and so to see him at the highschool on a random Monday afternoon is indeed surprising.

“Damn. What was he there for?” Louis asks, straightening as he puts his lock around the bike’s handlebar, and Oli shrugs, waving the question off.

“Don’t know, don’t care. The point is, he practically offered me a spot in the police academy. Just out of the blue. Maybe he knows my dad? Who knows.” Louis whistles as Oli dumps the words out.

Oli had wanted to be a police officer since they were kids, and was already looking at the best places to work. ‘The more crime the better’, as Oli always said. 

“Damn, Oliver. That’s a trip. Are you gonna take it?” Louis already knows the answer to this as he asks it, and Oli scoffs.

“No doubt. He said to give him a call sometime this week. Gonna talk to my dad when I get home, and- well, _damn,_ would you look at that _._ ”

Louis raises an eyebrow as Oli looks over Louis’ shoulder, jaw dropped slightly, and he turns around. He sees the blue Firebird, still in its same parking spot, now basically surrounded by gawking students. 

What he doesn’t expect to see is Harry, leaning against it, smiling at a group of girls who are all but falling at his feet. Louis’ grip tightens on his bike, and he swallows. 

“What a car. Wonder what a guy like him is doing with a car like that?” Oli’s voice has a tinge of jealousy, and Louis shakes his head as he watches Harry shake hands with a few of the gearheads who had gathered around.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Louis asks exasperatedly, and Oli turns to look at him with a slightly confused expression.

“I’m just saying. Wouldn’t have expected that kind of car from someone like him, that’s all.” Oli shrugs, and adjusts his backpack on his shoulders. “Don’t know why you’re so uptight about it, Lou.”

Louis rolls his eyes at Oli’s words, and swings his leg over his bike. “I’ve got to get home. I’ll see you later.” he bumps Oli’s fist with his own as he pushes away, leaving Oli behind and heading past the blue car, still surrounded by people. 

He makes the mistake of glancing to the side as he passes, and he sees Harry watching him, a small, puzzling smile resting on his face. 

Louis quickly turns his head away, looking fixedly at the area in front of him, and pretends that he doesn’t feel Harry’s eyes burning holes into his back as he pedals quickly away. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello lovies! this chapter was a little rough for me to write, just because I needed to get necessary motion out of the way.  
> context note: paper parties were something that was super popular in the late 70s-mid 80s. they were used to define the 'popular kids' from the normal kids, or just which groups of people got invited to which parties. super clique-y, but its the vibe of this school.  
> also: how are we feeling about Oli? do we trust him? 
> 
> thank you for your kind words/kudos already!  
> ~a


	5. 'In The Air Tonight' - Peter Gabriel (pt 1)

\- - -

It is unusually hot today.

Louis can feel the sweat run in torrents down his neck and face as he runs up and down the soccer field. Their practice today was their last one before their second game of the season, and Louis is determined to make this one (his last one) their best.

As captain, it’s his job to make sure the team is in peak condition, and he’s proud of their work so far. Taking the win last game had set the tone for this season, and Louis has already heard the whispers about the NASL scouts coming around. 

He hears the coach call for cool down runs, and Louis slows his pace, monitoring his breathing, and he begins to zone out, jogging absently. 

The paper party is tonight, and it’s all everyone had talked about today. At lunch, Liam, Sophia and Eleanor had been excitedly planning who was driving who, all while Oli and Zayn argued about whether or not to bring weed.

“Zayn, _everyone_ is expecting it. And it’s not like you care either way.” Oli had leaned towards Zayn, hands on Zayn’s knees as he begged, and Zayn snorted, crossing his own arms against his chest. “You know how much I’d have to bring in order to get that meathead even buzzing? TOO much.” he cocked his head towards Liam as he spoke, and Louis had chuckled. 

Liam had a tolerance like nobody else he knew, but when it hits him, it hits him. Louis was able to hold his liquor pretty well, but all bets are off when it comes to weed. Three drags and he’s on the floor. 

Zayn and Oli are seasoned pros, but the girls won’t have anything to do with it. 

Almost everyone in the school smokes something or another, so it was odd to Louis that Harry was sitting silently, eyes wide. “They just let you... do that? You don’t get in trouble or anything?” Harry’s confusion is hilarious to Zayn, who cackled, clapping a hand on Harry’s shoulder.

“Bud, you can get away with anything here. This is Californ-i-a, the land of opportunity, the land of smoking and whores.” Zayn rolled his eyes as he spoke, and Liam turned towards them, eyebrows raised.

“What about smoking and whores?” Liam asked, all attention intently on Zayn, and Louis had grinned, shaking his head. 

He had glanced over at Harry, and he remembers how his heart had thudded when he had seen Harry watching him, that stupid, small smile resting on his lips. Louis had raised an eyebrow in response, and Harry had chuckled silently, then looked away.

Louis is startled out of his musings as he feels a hand tap his arm, and he glances next to him to see Oli running next to him.

“Hey, pal. You seemed lonely out here by yourself, thought I’d join you.” Louis looks around as Oli speaks, and sees that the field is empty.

“Damn. Didn’t even notice.” Louis stops running then, running a hand through his sweaty hair, and Oli falls to the ground dramatically. “You’d work forever if you could. Give it a rest, man, you deserve it.”

Louis looks down at his friend, and scoffs, shaking his head as he reaches a hand out to help him back up. “No way. NASL scouts are working their way down and who knows when we’re next. I’ve got goals.” 

They begin walking back to the locker rooms together, and Oli laughs. “You’ve wanted to get into that damn league since 7th grade, and you’ve put us on the board across the state. There’s no way you won’t get asked.” Oli wraps a hot, smelly arm around Louis’ shoulder, and Louis groans.

“Bro, you’re rank. Get in the showers.” Louis shoves him towards the door, and Oli cackles, sending him a salute. “Sir, yes sir, captain.” Oli grins as he walks away, and Louis smiles, pausing outside the locker room doorway, listening to the sounds of his team.

His soccer team is one of the best parts of his life, and he’s not sure what he’s going to do without them once he graduates. 

  
  


Louis is biking home after practice, as he usually does, waving at his neighbors who are out mowing lawns, walking dogs, all the normal Friday afternoon activities. He’s almost in front of his house when he sees... him. 

Louis’ eyes widen, and he almost crashes his bike as he takes in the scene in the front yard of a house two doors across from his own. 

Harry Styles is mowing the lawn in front of a yellow house, and he’s only wearing a pair of blue jean shorts that are rolled to rest a few inches above his knees, and white sneakers. Louis’ grip on his handlebars tightens as he sees the sweat glistening on Harry’s skin, which he can now see is covered in more tattoos, and Louis is seconds away from falling off of his bike in a puddle. 

He can’t tear his eyes away. His mind is screaming at him to stop, to go inside and take a shower and wash away every single thought in his mind, and every memory of what he’s seeing down the drain, but he can’t move. 

He watches as Harry turns the corner with the lawn mower, when suddenly, Harry’s head shoots up, looking right at Louis. Louis feels the panic hit his gut, and he yanks his front gate open and clumsily shoves his bike inside, taking huge steps until he reaches his own front porch. He reaches for the doorknob, but he pauses. 

Against his better judgement, he turns around, and swallows tightly as he sees Harry still looking at him, leaning on the mower, a smirk on his mouth that’s big enough for Louis to see from where he’s standing.

Harry lifts a hand, waving, and Louis chews on his lips for a moment, then waves back. He feels a smile prick at his lips as Harry’s smirk turns into a grin, and he watches Harry get back to mowing, the grin still on his face, and Louis pushes his front door open.

Closing it behind him, he leans against it, and exhales slowly, the realization of what he’s feeling sinking into his stomach like tons of lead weights. 

Louis feels like he’s going to puke as he walks up his stairs slowly, gripping the handrail. 

_They’ll all hate you._

Louis opens the door to his room, and sets his bag down on the floor before collapsing on his bed. 

_You’re a freak._

_This isn’t normal._

_You’re sick._

_Nobody will like you._

_No school will take you._

Louis covers his head with his pillow, tears stinging at his eyes. The thoughts swarmed in his mind, buzzing and biting at him, growing louder and louder until Louis can’t take it anymore. “ _FUCK._ ” he screams into his bed, and he clenches his fists tightly. 

He lifts the pillow from his head and flips over to face his ceiling, his breathing fast and tight in his chest. 

That’s when the tears come.

Louis lets out a quiet sob before pressing a hand to his mouth, tears dripping down his face. His sobs get quicker and more panicked, and he squeezes his eyes shut, body shaking.

He can’t be gay. 

He can’t. 

He has a girlfriend, he likes girls, he likes looking at girls, and touching girls, and fucking girls. Gay people wear glittery clothes and talk funny and dress like women and have- 

Louis feels bile rise in his throat, and he sits up in bed. 

_What if you have AIDs? What if that’s why you’re like this?_

Louis swings his feet over the edge of his bed as his head starts to feel woozy. He knows he needs to stop freaking out and think logically, but there’s too much going on in his mind right now.

He rests his elbows on his knees and props his head in his hands, attempting to slow his breathing.

He thinks about what he knows about… that disease. He knows it’s transmitted by bodily fluids like blood, or by sharing needles, and he knows that gay people have it. 

Louis abruptly stands, and makes his way to his bathroom, twisting on the shower. He needs to shower. He needs to forget everything going on in his mind. 

He’s going to go to the party tonight, and get drunk, and sleep with his girlfriend because he is, in fact, straight. 

He’s not going to think about Harry’s tattoos, or about how he thinks about how soft Harry’s hair would be, and he most definitely isn’t going to think about how he felt when Harry grinned at him, and how he’d do anything to see that rare grin again.


	6. 'In The Air Tonight' - Peter Gabriel (pt 2)

\- - -

Louis is so, so drunk. 

He is drunk, lying on the couch, Eleanor’s legs and arms tangled up in his, his hand under her shirt as she presses wet, drunk kisses to his neck. 

Louis is drunk, and Louis should be happy that he has such a hot girlfriend who wants to do hot things with him, but his head is spinning and he can’t think straight and- 

“Oh, Lewis.” Louis turns his head as he hears Liam’s voice over the sounds of chatter and loud music, and he grins at his friend, grateful now for a new distraction. “Oh, Liam!” Louis singsongs in return, sitting up as Liam topples to the ground next to them, Eleanor whining next to him. Louis chooses to ignore her in favor of turning his full attention to Liam, who is now giggling on the floor. 

“Sophia decided that she didn’t want to come tonight because apparently,” Liam wiggles his fingers and continues, “I ignore her when I’m drunk. So, I guess that meant I had to drink away the sad. I was so very, very, sad, Lou. It was like she tore my heart out.” Liam can hardly contain the laughter bubbling out of him as he speaks, and Louis rolls his eyes.

“You’re mean to her.” Eleanor pipes up from where she’s still sitting next to Louis, and Liam scoffs. “I can’t be mean to her if she won’t talk to me first.” Liam looks at Louis for help, and Louis shrugs. 

He’s losing his buzz, which means he’s closer to remembering the certain things he doesn’t want to remember, and was doing a good job remembering to not remember them, but now he just wants to make sure he doesn’t remember anything at all. 

Louis disentangles himself from Eleanor and swings his legs off of the couch, stumbling slightly as he grips the arm of the couch. “Where’s Zayn?” he asks Liam, who is now pouting on the floor. Liam raises his hands, then drops them to his sides, and Louis sighs, heading for the kitchen.

Carefully making his way past the people littering the hallways and other rooms, he hears the voices of people he knows and people he doesn’t, but doesn’t bother seeing who is who.

Grabbing a random cup he sees off of a table, he knocks it back as he moves through the room. 

He hears Zayn’s voice then, and looks around, bracing himself against the wall until he sees the back of Zayn’s head standing by the doorway leading to the backyard.

Louis smiles, taking small, shuffling steps around the couples making out, the stoner passed out on the floor, and the stereo system set up in the corner. 

“Hey, Zaynie!” Louis yells as he approaches, and Zayn turns. Louis stumbles over the doorjam then, but Zayn catches him before he crashes to the ground.

“Hiya, pal. You alright?” Zayn wraps his arm around Louis’ waist with a smirk, and Louis smiles back, patting Zayn’s cheek.

“Lovely, lovely. Missed you.” Louis cuddles into Zayn’s side, and he feels Zayn chuckle. “You want to smoke?” Zayn gestured with his other hand, and Louis sees the lit blunt in his hand.

Louis shakes his head, and Zayn shrugs, raising the blunt to his mouth, and Louis watches as the smoke drifts up into the sky. 

Zoning out, Louis is content to sit quietly with Zayn as he talks to other people who keep coming up to them. He can’t remember what he wasn’t supposed to remember, which he assumes is a good thing. He does remember that he left Eleanor inside, but he can’t find it in himself to actually care. 

A Boston song is playing on the stereo, and Louis feels Zayn’s chest vibrate as he sings along, and Louis giggles. He loves it when Zayn sings, and he loves it even more when he’s drunk. 

Which, he is. Very drunk. 

Louis is almost too drunk to notice that the attention has turned to someone else that is not Zayn, and when he does notice, he gets the urge to throw himself into the swimming pool that still hasn’t been put up for winter. 

He stares as Harry stands a few feet away from him, taking a long drag from the blunt that had somehow made its way across the porch, and he can’t figure out how to tear his eyes away from Harry. 

Harry is wearing black flare bottom pants that were somehow both years out of fashion and a current trend. 

Harry is wearing a white t-shirt tucked in, and Louis can just make out the tattoos on his arms in the shadowy light coming from the house. 

Harry is wearing rings on his fingers, necklaces around his neck, and braids in his hair. 

Harry is the center of attention here, and Louis hates it. Louis hates how everyone, including _his friends,_ instantly loved him. Louis hates how, no matter how hard he tries to forget this _fucking boy_ , he can’t escape him.

Louis shoves away from Zayn, and stumbles a bit at the sudden movement. “No, no, I’m fine. Have your fun out here.” Louis waves Zayn’s hands away, and keeps his eyes firmly in front of him as he goes back into the house, struggling to stay upright.

He knows there are eyes on him, but he doesn’t care. He needs to be away from everyone, he needs to hide away and collect his own thoughts which are floating around his fuzzy brain. 

He wanders into a hallway that’s a little quieter than the others, and slumps against the wall, sliding down until he’s practically a puddle on the floor. “I fucking hate him.” Louis whispers to himself, and he feels tears prick at his eyes. 

“Fuck. Fucking fuck.” Louis rubs his eyes hard enough that he sees stars, and his head suddenly feels so incredibly heavy. It clunks back against the wall, and Louis groans, wincing as he reaches a hand back to rub the sore spot. 

“Fuck Harry Styles. Fuck my dad. Fuck this town.” Louis bangs his hand against the ground with each curse, and he hears a chuckle from the other end of the hall. 

Blearily, he turns his head, and with another groan he sees Harry leaning on the wall opposite from him, arms crossed as a wry smile turns up his mouth. “Damn. You were not supposed to hear that.” Louis’ eyes roll back into his head as he speaks, and he hears the rustle of Harry’s pants approach, and he hears a soft thud as Harry sits next to him. 

“Yeah, I didn’t think so. You alright?” 

Louis opens one eye, and looks at Harry with a scowl of confusion. If he was just going to ignore that, then Louis wasn’t going to bring it up.

“Yes. I am. You can leave now, I don’t fucking like you.” Louis turns his head away as he speaks, and this time Harry laughs outright. (So much for not bringing it up.) 

“You don’t have to like me, Louis. I just want to make sure you don’t get alcohol poisoning.” Harry’s voice is slow and deep, and Louis almost wants to find it comforting, but he reminds himself that- 

“I really don’t like you.” Louis can’t stop his words from coming out of his mouth, it would seem. 

“I’ve gathered.” Harry’s voice is slightly drier than it was a few seconds ago 

“Why are you here?” Louis turns his head back to Harry, who he sees is now staring at the wall in front of them. 

“Do you want me to leave?” Harry looks at him then, and Louis can see his eyes are a darker green now than they were. They glare at each other for a few seconds, until Louis huffs, rolling his head away.

“I don’t know. Guess it’s better you’re here than Liam. Zayn says he’s an enabler.” Louis crooks his fingers as he speaks, and Harry chuckles.

“I can see it. He’s a good guy, though.” Harry’s voice is thoughtful, and Louis nods.

“Good guy. One of m’best friends.” Louis is finding it harder to make a full sentence make sense now, and he wants to get up and find his friends and not sit in a quiet hallway with this beautiful boy, but… he doesn’t want to move.

However much he doesn’t want to admit it, Harry is comforting. Harry has ‘good vibes’, as Zayn says. 

Harry is quiet, peaceful, and stupidly, horribly comforting. 

“I can’t like you.” Louis whispers, mostly to himself, and Harry turns to him with a hum. “What’s up?” Louis meets Harry’s eyes, eyes that are still dark evergreen, and Louis shakes his head.

“‘S nothing. I’m kind of stupid right now.” A small laugh follows Louis’ words, and Harry smirks. “What else is new?” Harry rolls his eyes as he speaks, and Louis feels a prick in his chest at Harry’s teasing. 

“See, this is why I don’t fuckin’ like you. You’re mean to me.” Louis shoves himself off of the ground, and almost catapults himself into the wall when he feels strong hands gripping his shoulders.

Harry is laughing, and Louis’ skin is practically sizzling at the contact.

“You don’t talk to me enough for me to be mean to you. C’mon, let’s get you home.” Harry wraps an arm around Louis’ shoulders, guiding him down the hallway. Louis is all too willing to follow, but then stops, shaking his head.

“Can’t. Gotta wait. Zayn’s driving, and El…” Louis trails off as Harry scoffs lightly, but this time he really does choose to ignore it. “Louis, you’re not gonna remember a single thing in the morning. Let me take you home, it’s not like it’s out of my way.”

They stop at the end of the hallway, the noise growing louder again, and Louis peers up at Harry, brows furrowed, and Harry raises an eyebrow.

“Well?” Harry gestures to the door, and Louis’ brain begins to fog again. 

He either stays here to get more drunk, sit on a couch with Eleanor, maybe even sleep with Eleanor, or… go home with Harry. 

He knows what he should choose.

“Lemme just tell Liam I’m leaving.” Louis begins to walk towards the living room, but Harry grabs his arm, shaking his head.

“I’ll let him know. Let’s get you home first.” Harry pulls a jacket off of the hanging rack that’s hung next to the door, and Louis glances back towards the living room one last time before Harry wraps his arm around Louis’ arm again. 

The night air is chillier than it was before, and Louis shivers, subconsciously stepping closer to Harry as they walk across the lawn.

Without a word, Harry wraps his jacket around Louis’ shoulders, and Louis can smell Old Spice and essential oils. They walk in silence to Harry’s car, shiny enough to be reflecting the moonlight, and Harry pauses before opening the door for Louis.  
“Just… be careful in my car. Yanno. Please don’t puke in or on her. That kind of stuff.” Harry’s lips turn up as he speaks, and Louis looks away to try and avoid the growing sense of affection he has for Harry’s wonky little smirk.

“Fine, I’ll do my best.” Louis slides into the car, and closes his eyes as he is practically enveloped in the plush seat. He can hear the doors close, and the car start up, and he leans his burning forehead against the cool window. 

Louis doesn’t really remember the drive home.

What he does remember is being carried, and smelling lavender and cloves. He remembers hearing his door click open, and he remembers the quiet creaking of his stairs.

He remembers suddenly feeling his bed underneath him, and he remembers the feeling of a blanket being tucked around him. 

What he somehow remembers, even though he’s not sure it really happened, was feeling the faint brushing of a hand against his hair, or the lingering feeling of a hand touching his, or hearing a soft, sad sigh. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello :)  
> I'm sorry this chapter took a little bit, I've just finished with tech week/first weekend of shows so I will definitely be updating quicker! The beginning of this chapter dragged a little for me, as I started it a few days ago and had to get back into the swing to finish it up. Never fear, more will be on the way SOON!  
> thank you for sticking with me!!  
> ~a


	7. 'I Ran' - A Flock Of Seagulls

_ _ _

It’s almost been a week since the party, and Louis hasn’t seen heads or tails of Harry.

Not that he’s actually looking forward to it, or that he wants to see him.

He’s just worried. In a totally friendly way.

Asking Liam and Zayn where he might be only brought shrugs, and Oli doesn’t care one way or another. 

Louis had also done some avoiding of his own accord. Each time Eleanor had called, he had subtly become not available, and he’s started taking his lunches in the library under the ruse of ‘needing to study’ (which wasn’t a total lie).

He isn’t sure why he’s working so hard to avoid her, but he knows that somehow she’d figure him out, and that’s not a risk he’s willing to take quite yet. 

He’s in the library now, picking apart his peanut butter and jelly sandwich absently, when he happens to overhear a quiet conversation happening behind a bookshelf near him. 

“I don’t know what’s going on with him. He’s been so distant, and it’s been driving me crazy. It’s like, why even have a girlfriend if he isn’t going to act like he likes her, yanno?”

Louis’ heart thuds as he recognizes Eleanor’s voice, and he freezes as the conversation continues.

“Yeah, I get it. He hasn’t exactly been cool to hang out with lately. Something’s been under his skin, just can’t figure him out.” Louis blinks as he hears Oli’s voice, but it doesn’t occur to him to wonder why they’re alone in the library together.

Eleanor sighs, and Louis can hear the rustling of her paper sack lunch that she brings every day. 

“It’s been this way for a while now. I’m starting to think that maybe… maybe he doesn’t feel the same for me anymore.” Louis winces as he hears her sad voice, and he can only imagine Oli’s face now. Oli had always had a soft spot for Eleanor, and Louis remembers when he was almost jealous, once upon a time. 

“Hey. None of us know what’s going on with Louis. If you want, I’ll corner him at practice today. Tickle him until he talks.” Eleanor giggles as Louis hears the chair scraping against the ground, and he imagines Oli wrapping Eleanor in a hug.

Louis stares at the table in front of him, dread building in his stomach. 

What the hell is he supposed to tell him? How does he tell a person he’s known since kindergarten that he’s not in love with his girlfriend anymore?

How does he tell that person the reason why?

The bell rings then, and Louis panics, grabbing his rucksack from the seat next to him as he stuffs the last of his sandwich into his mouth.

He quickly makes his way to the exit, head pounding, and instead of turning right towards his classes, he turns left towards the main exit doors. He pushes them open, and starts to run down the pavement, through the parking lot.

He has no idea where he’s going, he just knows he can’t be in that school anymore today. 

Louis loves running. Everyone’s called him weird his whole life for it, but he loves it. He loves the freedom of it. But today, it feels anything but free.

As Louis runs, he feels tears come to his eyes again, and he lets them fall down his cheeks. He’s running down some side street now, and probably looks like a lunatic.

He slows down as he approaches a familiar corner, and wipes his tears away. Just ahead of him is his favorite record shop, and he smiles to himself.

Readjusting his sweatshirt, he pushed a hand through his hair and walked through the open doorway, immediately getting hit with the familiar smell of patchouli, odd incense, and weed. 

“Louis! Man, I haven’t seen you around in a big minute. How are you?” Louis grins as he sees the cashier lounging on a couch next to a record player, now playing some Loggins and Messina song that Louis recognizes.

“Hiya, Barry. Just figured I’d stop in, I was in the area.” Louis collapses in the chair next to Barry, who nods.

“Shouldn’t you be in school?” Barry’s eyes narrow as he checks the time on the clock on the wall, and Louis rolls his eyes. 

Barry is only a few years older than him, and practically lives in this shop. He’s a stoner, hippie type, someone that Louis normally wouldn't be hanging around with, but Barry is a different breed.

He’s more like Zayn than Zayn cares to admit. ‘I’m much more put together than Barry. I don’t think the man knows what a shower is’, Zayn whines often.

“Shouldn’t you not smoke on the job?” Louis shoots back, and chuckles as Barry looks offended. 

“Hey Barry, what happened to that one Clash album I put in the back? I was looking for it, but- oh.” 

Louis’ head whips around as he hears a deep, familiar voice, and his palms get sweaty as he sees Harry standing behind him, eyes wide as he holds a small stack of records.

They stare at each other for a moment, and Louis can see Harry’s eyes flicker across his face. 

Louis focuses on Harry’s eyes as Barry chuckles. “You guys know each other?” he asks, and suddenly the spell is over, Harry settling back into his nonchalant attitude as he gives Louis a cool smile.

“We’re neighbors. Nice to see you, Louis.” Harry nods at him, and Louis gives him a small wave as he watches Harry cross the room, sliding some records into sleeves. 

“Harry’s been coming in and doing some work for me for the last few weeks. He never lets me pay him. Weird kid, but he’s nice to have around.” Louis hears Barry’s words, but it feels like they’re coming from behind a thick window. 

He stares at Harry, who is dressed more casually today than Louis has ever seen him (save that day with the lawnmower).

He’s wearing long, plain jeans, with a white t-shirt and a colorful, weirdly patterned cardigan, and his hair is pushed back with a pair of glasses that Louis has never seen him wear.

He looks so incredibly soft, and Louis can hardly fight the urge to go up and wrap his arms around Harry’s waist. 

Louis quickly averts his eyes as Harry turns around after a few quiet minutes, and Louis picks up a stray record that’s lying on the table next to him. His eyes widen as he sees the label, and he turns it to face Barry.

“When the hell did this show up? I thought you weren’t getting any more in.” Louis stares at the album in his hands, and Barry shrugs.

“It’s not the shops. It’s Harry’s.” Louis groans softly as he hears Barry’s answer and he rolls his eyes, gently placing the Peter Gabriel album back down on the table.

“Of fucking course it is.” Louis mutters, and stares at the album. He’d wanted the album so badly when it first came out, but it had sold out almost everywhere before he had a chance to get it. 

“Sorry, bud. I keep tryin’, but they’re a pretty hot topic lately.” Barry’s voice is apologetic, and Louis waves him off.

“I’ll get it someday. Gotta save for school now anyways.” Louis curls his legs up underneath him, and closes his eyes, listening to the music coming from the stereo.

“You still want to do that soccer thing? Won’t you get a big scholarship for that?” Louis nods in response to Barry’s question. He hasn’t thought about the NASL in a few days, and suddenly some of the panicky thoughts came back to his head. 

_He has to practice._

_He has to study._

_He has to make sure he’s prepared._

_He doesn’t have time to obsess over records or money or… boys._

Louis’ eyes flip open as he hears the record shut off, and he hears Barry protesting as Harry readjusts a record on the player.

“What are you doing, we were listening to that!” Barry swats at Harry’s arm, and Harry grins, turning around as ‘Centerfold’ starts playing.

Louis can’t help the grin that pulls at his mouth as Harry starts dancing along to the catchy beat, and Barry stands up to do the same.

Louis watches the two of them, both awful dancers, dance and sing along, and Louis finds himself becoming even more fond of the boy bopping in front of him. 

As Harry sings that his ‘blood runs cold’, and that his ‘memory has just been sold’, he points to Louis with an eyebrow raised as he sings that his ‘angel is the centerfold’, and Louis feels a flush come over his cheeks.

Louis shakes his head at Harry, who is now whistling along to the music as he picks some records up off of the shelf. 

“C’mon, Lewis. If you’re going to hang around, I might as well put you to work.” Harry walks up to where Louis is still curled up on the chair and hands him a few records, a cheeky smile on his face.

Louis knows he should go back to school, he shouldn’t miss his classes, especially if he’s trying to get scholarships, but… there’s something about this Harry. 

The Harry that isn’t surrounded by people, the Harry that’s dressed in blue jeans, the Harry that dances like an idiot to a J. Geils Band song. 

There’s something about this Harry that makes Louis want to stay with him forever, and so Louis takes the records and follows Harry into the storage room. 

They sort records for almost two hours, until Louis sees the clock. “Shit. Shit, I need to leave, I’m going to miss practice.” Louis nearly drops the records he’s holding, and places them down on a shelf as he looks around for his rucksack.

Harry hands it to him with a chuckle, and Louis takes it, ignoring how Harry was watching him.

“Hey. Did you walk here? Do you, um. Do you want a ride back?” Louis turns as the tone of Harry’s question catches him by surprise, and he turns to see Harry fiddling with his rings, chewing on his lip as he raises his eyebrow. 

Louis looks at him for a moment, before nodding, smiling a (hopefully) reassuring smile. “That would be great, yeah. I’d appreciate it.” Louis is honest in his answer, and Harry’s face falls into a slightly less nervous expression, and he follows Louis to the front of the shop.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Barry. I’ll finish up.” Harry calls out to Barry before walking out the door.

“Adios, amigos. Thanks for the help, Louis!” he shouts after them, and Louis waves with a smirk. 

He has no idea how he didn’t notice Harry’s car that’s sitting conspicuously on the curb outside the shop, but there it is, in its bright, shiny blue glory. 

“Hop in, don’t want you to be late.” Louis blinks, and realizes that Harry is already in the car, watching him with an amused smile on his face.

Louis opens the car door, and as he sits in the seat, small snippets of the last time he was in that same seat come back to him. 

He remembers hearing Harry singing softly to a song that played from the radio. 

He remembers reaching out and twirling one of Harry’s curls around his finger. 

He remembers Harry looking at him, a smile on his face. 

He remembers _so badly_ wanting to kiss him. 

Louis stares out the windshield as Harry drives, quietly humming to a song that’s playing now. “Why haven’t you been in school?” Louis asks suddenly, and Harry seems surprised by the question.

He’s quiet for a moment, and then shrugs.

“Just felt a little… watched, I guess. Too many people concerned with who I am and what I’m doing. I wanted to be away from it for a bit.” Harry’s answer is quiet, and Louis turns to look at him fully. 

Harry has both hands wrapped around the steering wheel, and he’s absently drumming his thumbs against it.

Louis sighs. He knows how that feels.

“I get that. Kinda why I ran out today.” Louis chuckles as he thinks about how stupid he must have looked, and Harry huffs out a laugh.

“Everybody needs a day to play hooky, sometimes.”

They’re already pulling up to the school, and Louis can see kids pouring out of the front doors as the school day comes to an end. 

He feels like this car ride went unfairly quickly.

“Well, thank you very much for the ride, my good sir. I’ll forever be in your debt.” Louis winks at Harry as he shoves the door open, and Harry grins at him, leaning onto the center console.

“I’ll have to keep that in mind for later.” Harry wiggles his eyebrows as he speaks, and Louis laughs as he closes the door behind him.

“Alright now, Harold, keep a lid on it.” Louis leans in the window as he sees students begin to watch them, waving at Louis (or Harry), talking amongst themselves. 

“I won’t spill your hooky secret if you won’t spill mine.” Harry’s voice is teasing as he holds up a pinky to swear on, and Louis narrows his eyes before reaching out and wrapping his pinky around Harry’s with a smile.

“Deal.” he says, and Harry grins again, squeezing Louis’ finger.

“Great. Now go do sporty things with your sporty friends and get off of my car, Tomlinson.” Harry orders, and Louis laughs as he steps away, turning to walk into the school. 

The smile doesn’t leave his face for the rest of practice, or in the showers after, or on the way home. 

When Louis gets home, he sees a paper package with his name on it sitting on the kitchen table. “Mom? Where did this come from?” Louis wanders to the living room as he holds the package, confused, and Lottie is sitting on the chair, reading a book.

“Someone came and dropped it off for you a little while ago. And Mom’s not home, she said to say that she’s working a double and that we can order out if we want.” Lottie doesn’t look up from her book as she speaks, and Louis sighs.

Heading up the stairs, he tears the paper away, and he gasps softly as he sees the familiar blue and tan cover of the Peter Gabriel album.

He lets the paper fall to the floor as he holds the record in his hands, and he stares down at it.

He feels something taped to the back of the record, and he flips it over to see a note with his name attached. 

_louis_

_i figured that you’d appreciate this more than i do. or maybe not, i dont know._

_not that i dont enjoy this album, its one of his best. you just deserve to enjoy it more._

_did that make sense?_

_dont monkey with the monkey._

_h_

Louis stares at the note in his hands, and feels his heart rate pick up. The smile grows wider on his face, and he bites his lip against the welling giddiness he feels in his chest.

He tightens his grip on the album as he walks into his room, closing his door behind him. Louis doesn’t have his own record player in his room, but he doesn’t want to listen to the record just yet. 

He looks at Harry’s loopy. chicken scratch handwriting, and wonders what possessed Harry to do this.

Normal friends would just give each other records for birthdays, or trade them for other records, not just out of the blue like this. 

This also means Harry must have been listening when he was talking to Barry about wanting the album. 

This means Harry cares. 

About Louis. 

Louis sits on his bed, and carefully detaches the note from the back of the album. Placing the album next to him on his desk, he sticks the note from Harry on the wall next to his bed. Staring at it, Louis feels an odd sensation rise in his stomach. 

But, this time it isn’t bad. This time, it feels like hope. 

Unfounded, ridiculous, unneeded and unwanted hope, but hope all the same. 

And Louis likes it. 


	8. 'Hungry Eyes' - Eric Carmen

_ _ _

The record shop became their place after that day. 

Louis would find Harry there on days when he didn’t have practice, over the weekends, or on days they had off from class.

Occasionally, they’d work on homework together, sitting cross-legged on the old sofa, knees pressed together as they asked each other questions.

Most of the time, though, they’d sort through records in the shop, Harry instructing Louis on where to put them.

And when they were done, they’d sit on the floor and run through the newest records, Louis’ legs propped on Harry’s lap as they listened.

It was a place away from the outside, a place where Louis didn’t have to keep up a front, a place where he wasn’t afraid to brush against Harry’s side, or dance with him when a song they both loved came on.

Louis cherished these times, and the weeks seemed to fly by as they fell into a sort of routine. 

Louis and Harry would go to school as usual, and would hang out with their group as they always did, and Louis would go to practice like normal.

But afterwards, he would rush out of the locker room to his bike, and he would speed to the record shop, where Harry would be sitting behind the counter, reading some stupid gossip rag or chewing on Barry’s secret stash of candy.

He’d look up at Louis with a smile, and Louis would smile back.

Louis would feel the butterflies crashing around his insides as they moved to the couch, and Harry would curl his legs underneath himself and scoot close to Louis. 

However, Liam, Zayn, and especially Oli were becoming a little suspicious.

Oli had cornered him the other day, demanding to know where he goes every day after practice, but Louis had shoved him off with an excuse and a laugh.

“You know that my mom’s started working doubles. I’ve got to be home for the kids.” Louis has used the same excuse a few times now, and Oli rolls his eyes.

“Alright, Louis. Whatever you say. You didn’t forget about the party next week, right? You know we’ve been planning it since school started.” 

Oli and Louis are walking back from the practice field, and Louis suddenly remembers. It’s all that they had talked about for a long time, but suddenly Louis doesn’t feel like helping throw a party.

“Yeah, yeah I remember. I’ll make sure Lottie’s home early that day.” Louis hopes his voice was convincing enough, and Oli nods.

“We just want to see more of you, man. You’ve been kind of MIA.” Oli claps a hand to Louis’ shoulder, and Louis readjusts the bag of soccer balls hanging on his arm.

“Yeah. My bad.” Louis looks at his beat up cleats as they walk, and he chews on his lip as they drop the gear off in the storage room. Oli starts chattering about the details of the party, but Louis finds himself tuning Oli out. 

Thinking of the party has reminded him of Eleanor, and he realizes that he can’t remember the last time he spent time alone with her.

He knows what people must be saying by now, and he cringes to think of what they must be saying to her.

After overhearing her and Oli’s conversation in the library, he knows he needs to talk to her about the situation he’s in. 

The thing is, he doesn’t think he’d know how. How is he supposed to tell her that he doesn’t love her in a girlfriend way anymore? How is he supposed to tell her the reason why?

How does he explain to her that there’s someone else, someone who is a star in human form, someone who captures every second of Louis’ attention like a moth in a streetlamp? 

Louis is jolted out of his musings by a hand grabbing at his arm, and turns to see another member of the team looking at him excitedly.

“Louis, you won’t fuckin’ believe it. NASL scouts will be here for tomorrow’s game, and I heard from Coach that your name’s been floating around!” Ed’s face was red with excitement, and Louis felt his stomach tense as nerves flared up throughout his entire body.

“When did you hear that?” Louis’ voice comes out as a hoarse whisper.

“Just now. You okay? You look like you’re gonna hurl.” Ed’s voice is full of concern, and Louis nods absently, staring at a spot on the floor in front of him. 

Suddenly, he finds himself walking out of the locker room, ignoring calls from his teammates, and as he shoves the door open and jogs to where his bike is on the rack he feels the panic rising up to his throat.

He starts pedalling, and doesn’t stop pedalling until he’s in front of the record shop. Harry’s car is out front, like he knew it would be, and he walks inside the store, eyes flickering around as the bell above the door jingles.

Louis’ eyes shoot to the doorway to the store room where Harry is standing and watching him, the remains of a smile falling on his face as a concerned glance takes its place. 

“Lou, what’s going on? You’re early.” Harry places the records in his hands down, and Louis doesn’t say a word as he walks up to Harry and grabs him in a tight hug.

He hesitates a moment, but then Louis feels Harry’s arms wrap around his shoulders, and he feels Harry’s chin rest on the top of his head.

“What’s up?” Harry’s voice is soft, and Louis inhales, and then exhales a slow, shaky breath. 

“Scouts are coming to the game tomorrow.” he tightens his grip on Harry as he speaks, voice quiet, and Harry chuckles, rubbing Louis’ back.

“You’re the best player on the team. In the state, probably. You shouldn’t be worried, Lou.” Louis feels a comforting wave as Harry’s words wash over him, and he shrugs.

He ignores his inner monologue that’s telling him ‘no’ as he buries his face in Harry’s chest, and Harry chuckles again. 

“C’mon. I’m hungry, and I want fries. You deserve them too.” Louis looks up at Harry as Harry releases his grip on Louis’ shoulders, and Louis scoffs, crossing his arms.

“I have a game tomorrow, Harold. My metabolism isn’t as great as yours.” Louis complains as he watches Harry reach across the desk to grab his keys, and Harry snorts.

“You’ll work it off tomorrow.” Harry’s voice is joking as he follows Louis out the door, and Harry flips the sign from ‘open’ to ‘closed’ before locking the door behind them. 

Louis raises an eyebrow, and waits by Harry’s car. “When did Barry give you keys?” he asks before sliding into Harry’s passenger seat, and Harry pauses to think.

“A few weeks ago, I think. He just figured that if I’m going to be here so much, I may as well have a pair. It’s not like he cares.” Harry smirks, and Louis shakes his head as he thinks about Barry. He has no idea how that man manages to stay in business, but he does. 

They’re always quiet when they drive together, and today is no exception.

As they pull up to the McDonald’s in town, Louis reaches for his wallet in his pocket, and Harry shakes his head, putting his hand on Louis’ to stop him.

“My treat. Think of it as an incentive for you to do well tomorrow. Pay me back.” Harry winks as he speaks, and Louis bites his lip, fighting a smile.

“Fine.” Louis rolls his eyes, and when they’re through the drive through Harry looks at him, eyes bright. 

“Where to now, Sir Tomlinson?” Harry gestures to the road, and Louis furrows his brow in confusion.

“What do you mean?” he pulls a fry out of the bag and pops it in his mouth, and Harry grins.

“Where do you want to go? We aren’t just going to the shop to eat fries. Where should we go?” Harry looks back at the road, and Louis leans his head back against the seat, thinking. 

“There is this place I like to go sometimes. But it’s a little far.” Louis settles in the seat, and Harry’s eyes glance over at him.

“I’ve got time.”

Louis looks at Harry, and he feels his stomach knot like it always does when he sees Harry’s smile. Louis shakes his head, and laughs quietly.

“I go to the cliffs sometimes when I really need to get out of town. They’re just north of here, on 85. On sunny days you can see the whales during the springtime. The whole world just… falls away up there.” Louis stares out the window as he speaks, and his smile turns wistful. 

He discovered the cliffs when he was a freshman, right after his dad left the family for the first time. His parents had always had a rough go of things, but had managed to work it out eventually. 

His father would go on week long ‘business trips’ away, but Louis knew what he was really doing. He was sure his mother did too, but he didn’t want to talk about it with her. She’d just say that it’s not his problem to deal with, even though Louis had been dealing with it since he was in 8th grade. 

Louis had found the cliffs after he had found out his dad had left, and he remembers how he had biked for what felt like hours, tears streaming down his face and blurring his vision.

He remembers taking a turn off of the main road, and stumbling across the open clearing, and he remembers how he saw the cliffs for the first time.

The view was breathtaking, with the sun glistening on the water like a million tiny diamonds, the gulls swooping and screaming above his head, the water ebbing and crashing against the rocks below him. 

Louis remembers sitting on the edge, legs dangling, and feeling the breeze in his hair, and smelling the crisp, clean, salty air. He remembers feeling free, like all his problems were insignificant out there. 

He hadn’t been to the cliffs since the springtime, having spent all last summer working and training, and he did miss it.

He turns to glance back at Harry, who’s looking out the windshield thoughtfully, and he looks around to see where they are now. He recognizes the old park outside their subdivision, and he raises an eyebrow.

“Mary’s Park? This is where you chose?” Louis smirks, and Harry shrugs, a smile on his face. “I like swings.” Harry puts the car into park and grabs the paper bag from Louis’ lap as he opens his door.

Louis follows him to the swingset, and as Harry falls into a swing, Louis laughs, finding the juxtaposition of Harry’s gangly limbs and the small swing incredibly endearing. 

Louis seats himself on the swing next to Harry, and they swing quietly for a few minutes, the rhythmic squeaking mixing with the sounds of the town.

The sun is getting redder and lower in the sky, and Louis can see the light shape of the moon appearing above them.

“This is my favorite time of day.” Harry’s words cut through the silence, and Louis turns to look at him.

He takes in Harry’s face, that is turned up to the sky, his hair falling away from his face, and Louis swallows as he sees the curves of Harry’s jawline, and resists the urge to reach out and touch.

“It’s like, everything is slowing down. Everything is quiet, and peaceful, and you feel the facade dropping. It’s calm.” Harry explains further, and then turns to face Louis.

They stare at each other for a few seconds, and Louis can see light reflecting in Harry’s eyes as street lamps begin to switch on.

Harry hands him the bag of fries then, and Louis snorts, taking it from him.

“Cheers.” Louis grabs a few of the lukewarm fries and shoves them into his mouth, shaking his head as he looks back up at the sky. 

He’s decided that he never wanted this moment to end. 

This moment of pure tranquility, with just him, Harry, and the moon. 

Louis is riding the high of that night the entire way home. Harry had brought him back to the shop to get his bike, and they’d managed to jimmy the bike into the backseat.

On their drive home, they sang along to whatever stupid songs were playing on the radio, and Louis revelled in Harry’s smile and bright eyes.

He resisted the urge to lean across the seat and plant a kiss to Harry’s cheek as he got out of the car, and he watched Harry pull across the street to his house.

Smiling, he walks up to his front door and leaves his bike outside. He pauses then, the smile falling from his face as he hears yelling coming from inside the house.

Louis squeezes his eyes shut, and slowly opens his front door to hear his stepdad yelling loudly. 

“I don’t get any fucking breaks here, do I, Jay? None. I just can’t win with you.” Louis hears something slam, and he grits his teeth as he leans against the wall.

“Mark, you know I’m trying. It’s not your fault that you aren’t making as much anymore, which is why I’ve been working overtime, and-”

Joanna’s voice is cut off by his stepfather’s mocking laughter, and Louis feels his hands fist up. “And you’ve done nothing but make me feel guilty for it. What do you think, I can just come home and take care of kids at your beck and call? Come on, Joanna, I’m still a working man.” Mark’s voice is tight and sour, and Louis feels angry heat rise up in the back of his throat.

His stepfather hasn’t been home before 10 o’clock in months, which means that Louis has had to come home and watch the kids if his mother hadn’t been home in time. 

Louis can’t stomach hearing any more, and he takes the stairs two at a time as he feels hot tears tingle in his eyes. He doesn’t let them fall, though, instead sitting on his bed and staring at his wall, where the note from Harry is still hanging.

He can hear the voices from downstairs subsiding, and he pulls the note off the wall, rubbing it in between his fingers.

In the soft moonlight, Harry’s writing looks otherworldly and beautiful, like he is, and Louis chews on his lip.

Flipping the paper over absently, he blinks his eyes as he sees a series of numbers on the back.

A smile pulls up his lips as he looks at Harry’s number, and he stands up, walking through his doorway and down the hallway to the phone on the wall.

Plunking out the numbers on the pad, Louis sits on the floor and leans on the wall, hearing the dial tone as he waits. His heart rate picks up as he hears the crackle of the line connecting, and he bites his lip as he hears Harry’s voice on the other end of the line. “Hello?” 

“Well, I found the other side of the note. I’ll take the crown for most oblivious, now.” Louis curls closer in on himself as he hears Harry’s laugh, and closes his eyes.

“I guess you’ll have to. How long has it been, a month? C’mon Louis.” Harry’s tone is soft, teasing, and Louis feels like he can listen to it forever. 

“Everything okay?” Harry’s voice is crackly through the phone, but Louis can hear the slight concern coming through clearly.

Louis nods, then realizes that Harry can’t see him. “Yeah. My parents…” Louis trails off, and Harry hums. 

They stay quiet for a minute, until Harry speaks up again. “Hey. Go turn a light on in your window real quick.” Louis frowns, but obliges, taking the receiver with him as he walks.

Switching on his desk lamp, he waits a moment before hearing Harry’s voice in the phone again.

“Look at my house. Second floor.” Harry’s voice is almost a whisper now, and Louis can see a light flicker on in a window of Harry’s house.

“Turn your light on if you ever need to call. I’m almost always up here if I’m home.” 

Louis sits at his desk, holding the phone and the note close to him as he listens to Harry’s words. “Okay?” Harry prods, and Louis laughs quietly and nods again. “Okay.” Louis whispers back. 

They sit in silence, Louis staring at the light in Harry’s window. 

“I’ve got a game tomorrow.” Louis breaks the quiet as he talks, and Harry hums. “I know, you told me.” Harry’s voice is slightly more muffled now, and Louis sniffs.

“Um. Will you, like. Come? Maybe? It’s fine if you’re free, just… wanted to see.” Louis stumbles over his words, and there’s a quiet laugh on the other end of the line.

“Of course I’ll come, Lou. Wouldn’t miss it.” Louis smiles as he hears Harry’s comforting words.

“Hey, want to know something funny that happened at the shop today? Before you came in.” Harry asks, and Louis confirms, if only to hear Harry’s voice for a few minutes longer. 

Louis is going to ignore the growing feelings he has for this boy, and he’s going to ignore the situations with his parents, with his friends, with his girlfriend, and he’s going to ignore how he’s going to get himself out of this mess. 

He’s going to ignore it, because right now he has Harry, and the light in Harry’s window, and Harry’s voice, and that’s all he wants.


	9. 'San Jacinto' - Peter Gabriel

_ _ _

The scouts were at the game, just like Ed had said they would be. Louis had felt like all eyes were on him tonight, and he hadn’t been prepared for just how nervous he would be. 

His friends were there supporting them, as they always were, and Louis could see Harry’s tall frame standing next to Zayn and Eleanor, holding a sign with a huge grin on his face.

Louis had shaken his head with a laugh when he first saw it, and had continued warming up with his team. 

They had swept the other team, like they were all expecting, and as Louis celebrated with his teammates on the field, he couldn’t help himself from looking up to the crowd where Harry was.

When he finally found him, he felt a rush of fondness as he saw Harry whooping and hollering like the rest of his friends, shaking the sign with his name on it.

He had met Harry’s eyes then, and he watched as Harry’s grin got wider. 

After they had finished their post-game talk, Louis’ coach took him aside. All the nerves that Louis had set aside suddenly came rushing back.

“Well, Louis, the scouts were here tonight.” His coach had watched Louis for some sort of reaction, but Louis had kept his face neutral as he nodded.

His coach watched him for a moment longer, steel faced, before a big smile appeared on his face. 

“Damn it, Louis, you blew them away! They had no idea what they were in for.” Louis’ coach had grabbed him into a tight hug, and all the air had suddenly left Louis’ lungs.

“Thank you, coach.” Louis stuttered breathlessly, and his coach had patted him on the back as he released him.

“Journey’s not done yet. They’re going to give me a call once they make a decision, and then you’ll have to try out from there. But damn, son, you’re almost there.” 

Louis walks out of the locker room, still reeling from the conversation that had happened less than ten minutes ago, and was greeted with his cheering friends. He smiles at them, and Zayn wraps him in a tight hug.

“Fuck, Louis, you guys annihilated them! I’ve never seen a team lose so quickly.” Zayn gives him a quick rub on his head as Louis hugs him back.

“Good job, Lou.” Eleanor grabs him next, and Louis can’t find it in himself to react more than giving her a quick pat on the back before looking for Harry.

Harry is standing a little ways behind them, a smile still lingering on his face, and Louis takes him in.

Tonight he’s wearing his hair down, falling gently on his shoulders that are covered in a button up that matches their school colors, and his usual wide bottomed jeans.

He’s still holding that stupid sign, and he’s focusing on Louis’ face intently.

“What happened?” Harry asks suddenly, and all their eyes turn to look at Louis. Louis bites his lip, and looks at the ground.

“Louis, what did the scouts say?” Harry’s voice is low and quiet, full of concern, and Louis lifts his eyes, a grin breaking across his face.

“Coach said they were blown away and they’re going to give him a call.” Zayn lets out a (very manly) scream as Louis’ words settle over them, and Louis keeps his eyes on Harry, who looks like he’s about to burst.

Louis opens his arms for a hug, and he closes his eyes as Harry envelopes him in a hug so tight it feels like it’s going to break Louis’ ribs.

“I’m so proud of you, Lou.” Harry whispers, his lips brushing against Louis’ ear, and a shiver runs down Louis’ spine. 

Harry lets him go, but Louis desperately wants to cling to Harry, never giving him up. 

“We should all go out to celebrate. We can get Liam and Sophia and head to Denny’s?” Zayn suggests, and Eleanor nods slowly, looking at Louis with a strange look on her face.

“What do you think, Louis?” her voice is nonchalant, and Louis looks at her, guilt beginning to build in his chest. “I should probably head home for the kids. Mark’s gone for the week.” As another excuse falls from Louis’ lips, he sees Zayn pout and Eleanor shake her head, a small smile on her face. 

The guilty knot gets bigger, and he grabs for Eleanor’s hand, choosing to ignore how foreign it feels now.

“We can all go out this weekend, okay? I promise?” He squeezes her hand lightly, and she looks at their hands.

She nods, looking up at him with a smile, and leans over to kiss his cheek. “I’d better get home, then. Zayn, can you drive me?” she turns almost entirely away from Louis to ask Zayn the question.

Zayn acknowledges her with a nod, and they run through their goodbyes, promising to all get together that weekend, and then suddenly, Louis and Harry are alone. 

Harry smiles at Louis, and steps closer to him. “Smells like rain. You sure you don’t want a ride home?” Harry asks, and Louis snorts.

“You never asked in the first place. I would have said no, but it would have been nice to be asked.” Louis delights in how Harry laughs at him, and they head towards Harry’s car together, shoulders brushing as they walk.

“You’re so weird, you know that? Like, who the hell says that it ‘smells like rain’?” Louis teases, and Harry lifts his face to the sky, and Louis can see his smile grow.

“I say it. It smells like it’s going to rain. You can smell it.” Harry shrugs as he speaks, and Louis watches him, the fondness bubbling in his belly like soda. 

The rain starts as they drive, and Harry screeches as he celebrates his victory, and Louis laughs at him.

They break tradition and talk during this car ride, talk about everything and nothing.

They talk about Louis’ siblings and Harry’s clothing choices, they talk about the difference between centipedes and rolly pollies, they talk about why McDonald’s fries are better than other fries, they talk about the best songs on the worst albums, and Louis’ heart is fuller now than it’s ever been.

They’ve been talking so much and for so long that Louis doesn’t notice at first that they’re on the highway.

He doesn’t question Harry, instead looking out the window as a new song comes on the radio. 

“Fuck, this is one of the best ones on the whole album. That sudden shift in moods about halfway through? Shit, that’s powerful.” Harry’s voice is sincere as he talks about the Peter Gabriel song, and Louis nods in agreement. 

Louis watches as the rain falls against the car, and he traces a raindrop down the glass.

A smile breaking over his face, he turns the song up until it’s reverberating through the car, and he rolls the window down, and he can hear Harry protest. “Louis, what are you doing?”

He can hear Harry’s voice as he sticks his head out the open window, squinting as the rain pounds against his face.

His smile turning into a grin, he manages to shove his whole top half out of the window, his shirt becoming almost immediately soaked as the rain hits him.

He lets out a long whoop, squeezing his eyes shut as he lets his arm dangle next to him, and he hears Harry’s loud laugh from inside the car.

Suddenly, Harry turns off of the road, and they drive across a bumpy strip of land.

Louis can see that they’re at the top of the cliffs, and Louis can hear the sounds of dark, angry waves crashing against the rocks below them, and he slides back into the car. 

“What are we doing?” Louis looks at Harry as he rolls the window back up, and Harry looks back at him, a smile still on his face. “Just to see the cliffs, like you wanted.” Harry pushes his door open, and Louis frowns, following suit.

“Harry, it’s nighttime.” Louis slams his door behind him, and Harry shrugs, walking towards the cliff. 

Louis stands and watches him, and he watches as Harry stands, rain falling on both of them, and he watches as Harry tips his head back, extending his arms out next to him, and he feels the familiar fire build in his belly again. 

He steps towards Harry, who stays still, and he stares at the boy, whose shirt is now clinging to his skin, like Louis’ is, and he forces his eyes to look at the ocean.

He can hear the waves, the thunder crackling in the sky, and it’s then that he glances back at Harry. 

Harry is watching him now, a look on his face that Louis has never seen before, and Louis’ breathing stops.

The rain pours down, making Louis’ hair drip into his eyes, and he freezes as Harry lifts his hand, gently pushing Louis’ hair off of his forehead. 

Harry’s eyes are dark green and full, full of something that Louis can’t read. 

Louis stares at Harry, whose lips are red and perfect, whose skin is glistening in the moonlight, whose wet hair is falling around his face like some ethereal being. 

They’re so, so close together now, and Louis feels like his skin is crawling with static. Louis feels like he could reach out and dive into Harry’s eyes, his beautiful stormy eyes that are so, so close to him. 

It’s then that he feels a hand wrap around his. 

He looks down, and sees Harry’s fingers twining in with his. 

It’s then that he looks back up and Harry is closer than before, and that Louis steps even closer, and that Harry reaches his free hand to cup at Louis’ wet cheek, and that Louis feels lips on his, lips that are new and soft and warm.

It’s then that Harry wraps Louis in his arms as thunder cracks and a new wave of rain washes over them. 

It’s then that Louis tangles a hand in Harry’s hair, keeping them close together even as their lips break apart, both of their breathing shallow. 

Louis closes his eyes as Harry rests his forehead against Louis’, and he feels Harry’s breath across his face, and he can feel every single place that Harry is touching him light up like they’ve been set on fire.

He feels Harry’s lips press against his temple, his cheeks, the bridge of his nose, and he feels a new kind of warmth inside. 

This warmth was good. This warmth was calm. This warmth was welcome. 

“Louis.” Harry’s voice is a soft whisper, almost unintelligible over the sounds of the rain and the ocean, but Louis hears it.

Louis opens his eyes, and sees Harry staring down at him, eyebrows furrowed, and Louis can’t help the hand that reaches up and smooths his brow.

“Harry.” Louis whispers back, keeping his hand placed on Harry’s cheek, and Harry’s face settles back into a soft grin. 

Louis feels the warmth inside him spread from his toes to the tips of his fingers as Harry kisses him again, and again, and again. 

There’s only lightning light in the sky when they traipse back to the car, holding hands tightly, loopy smiles on their faces, shivering as the temperature drops.

They drive home in near silence, but their hands are still clutched close together. 

Harry pulls to a slow stop in front of Louis’ house, and Louis stares at their hands. He looks up at Harry, who has a small smile on his mouth, one that Louis has seen before. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Lou.” Harry’s voice is soft, and Louis swallows, nodding. Harry squeezes his hand once, and Louis opens the door. 

When he reaches his front porch, he turns around, and watches Harry drive down the street, and pull into his driveway. He watches as Harry gets out of the car, and he watches as Harry turns to look at him too. 

They stand there for a minute as the rain dies, and Harry raises a hand, giving Louis a small wave. Louis does the same, a smile breaking across his face.

Harry shakes his head, turning to walk into his own home, but Louis can see Harry’s smile still on his lips. 

Louis quietly steps into his house, and hears the crackle of late night tv. Slipping out of his wet shoes, he tiptoes past the living room, where he can see his mother sleeping on the recliner, and he takes the stairs two at a time. 

He pushes open the door to his room, and as he closes it behind him, a huge grin breaks across his face. Louis falls to the floor, and lays spread eagle on the ground, staring up at his ceiling.

He wraps his arms around himself, shirt still wet from the rain, and a laugh bubbles up from his chest. He can’t wipe the grin from his face as he sits back up, and he scoots to his desk to switch on his lamp.

As he does so, he sees the lamp in Harry’s window flick on, and he runs a hand through his hair, leaning on his desk as his smile relaxes.

He can still feel the pressure of Harry’s lips on his, and he can still feel Harry’s hands on his cheeks, on his waist, in his hair.

Louis’ eyes grow heavy, and he rests his head on his desk, staring at the light in the window across the street. 

He doesn’t need to call Harry tonight. 

He just wants to feel close to him. 

This will have to do for now, he thinks to himself as the memory of Harry’s green eyes flashes across his mind as he drifts to sleep. 


	10. 'Never Tear Us Apart' - INXS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: *slurs*

_ _ _ 

The record store becomes a new sort of haven then.

It’s a place where Harry can kiss Louis’ forehead without anyone seeing.

It’s a place where they can lie on the floor, legs tangled together as Louis traces the tattoos on Harry’s arms while some album plays on the speakers.

It’s a place where Louis doesn’t have to resist his urges to kiss Harry’s lips whenever he pleases.

It’s a place where they don’t have to worry about what the outside world sees. 

Barry found out their little secret on accident, when he walked in on them in a pretty suspicious position in the store room.

Louis was quick to jump away from where his arms had been wrapped around Harry’s waist, but Harry had stayed where he was, leaned up against the worktable with a big, cheesy grin on his face.

Barry, for reasons unknown to Louis, was fairly unsurprised, but as Harry pointed out, “It’s not like he couldn’t have seen this coming. I mean, look at us.” 

Anywhere outside of the record store, they lived their lives as usual. Harry, existing in his own little world, surrounded by people of all kinds, and Louis, still sitting with the same 5 people and going to the same soccer practices.

The only thing that was different now is that Louis would feel Harry’s eyes on him, and he wouldn’t look away. He’d walk next to Harry in the hallway, and laugh with him in the lunchroom. 

However, their newfound closeness didn’t go unnoticed.

Louis would catch Oli staring at him, an unreadable expression on his face. He would see Oli whispering to Liam, who in turn would shake his head in exasperation and whisper something back.

Louis decided a while ago that he was going to be talking to Eleanor about their situation, but he still wasn’t sure what he was going to do about Oli.

Telling Eleanor that he wasn’t in love with her anymore is one thing, but dealing with the endless questions from his friends is another. 

Louis had brought it up to Harry once when they were lying on the floor, listening to a Fleetwood Mac album. Louis had buried his face in Harry’s chest, and had let out a loud sign.

Harry had chuckled, rubbing Louis’ back absently, and had pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours? Anything fun?” Harry’s voice had been muffled against Louis’ hair, and Louis had shrugged.

He inhaled Harry’s scent of lavender, cloves, and vanilla, and sighed again.

“I’ve just been… thinking.” he mumbled, and Harry had snorted. “Uh oh. Dangerous.” Harry had poked his side as he teased him, and Louis rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah. About… Eleanor.” 

He had winced as he felt Harry’s grip on him tighten slightly, and Harry cleared his throat.

“Oh. Yeah. Well, what were you thinking about?”

Harry’s voice was casual, too casual, and Louis had sat up to look at him.

Harry was staring at the ceiling, face firm and unmoving, and Louis had leaned forward to press his lips to Harry’s cheek briefly before settling again, his back leaning against the couch. 

“I’ve been thinking about what to do. I obviously have to break up with her.” Louis watches Harry’s face as he speaks, but it doesn’t even twitch.

“I suppose you do.” Harry says, voice as calm and casual as it was before, and Louis’ eyebrows turn down. 

“Don’t you think it’s a good idea? Considering…” Louis had waved his hand between the two of them, and Harry had only given him a hum in response.

Louis had huffed, and shifted around to face Harry, arms crossed as a scowl deepend on his face. “What the hell is going on with you? Why are you acting like this? Don’t you _want_ me to?” 

Harry had met his eyes then, and Louis could see them getting darker, the way they did sometimes when Harry was upset or nervous.

“Fuck, Louis, of course I do. But what’s going to happen if you do? Do you even think about that anymore? You’re... you. People will talk even more than they already do, and I-”

Harry had sat up by this point, and had run a hand through his hair as he stared at Louis. 

Louis could feel his face softening, and he had reached out to grab for Harry’s hand.

“Hey. I don’t care about that. I just don’t want to string her along anymore. There won’t be any more reason for it than we give them.” Louis said softly, and Harry had shaken his head, looking at the floor.

“That’s not how it works around here and you know it, Louis. People are going to start something just because they can. They always do.”

The slight edge of bitterness hadn’t gone unnoticed to Louis, but, like he always does, he chose to ignore it, instead leaning forward to press his lips gently to Harry’s. 

“I’ll work it out. I always do.” he mumbled against Harry’s lips, and Harry had chuckled, wrapping his fingers around Louis’ wrist. “If you say so, Lou.”

Louis is brought back to reality as a ball of paper hits his head, and he turns to face Zayn, who is watching him with a bemused expression.

“Ground control to Major Tommo, hello.” Zayn waves a hand in his face, and Louis chuckles, looking down at the table. “Alright, Bowie, calm down.” Louis leans back in the hard wooden chair, and glances over at Zayn’s sketchpad, which is open to a drawing of-

“Hey, is that Liam?” Louis leans in closer to get a better look, and Zayn looks sheepish, his face getting a slight tinge of red.

“Yeah, it’s, um. Just something I’m working on, with, like, faces and… stuff.” Zayn fumbles for words, and Louis grins, looking at the masterfully drawn portrait.

“Zayn, this is insanely good. Why are you hiding it, he’d love it.” Louis pats Zayn on the shoulder, and Zayn shrugs, tucking the sketchpad back into his backpack. 

“I don’t really think he’d even notice.” Zayn says, voice quiet, and Louis notices the subtle hint of sadness behind Zayn’s words.

He pats Zayn’s shoulder again as the school day bell rings, and they gather their things, heading out of the room together.

“So, what’s going on with you and Eleanor? Are you two still… an item?” Zayn holds the door for them as they leave, and Louis clicks his tongue in response.

“I don’t really know, man. It’s kind of complicated right now.” Louis shuffles his feet as they walk, and Zayn hums. 

“If you don’t love her anymore, that’s okay. It happens. Sometimes two people just need each other to help find someone else, yanno?”

Louis’ eyebrows raise as Zayn speaks, and he gives an incredulous chuckle as he turns to look at his friend.

“Well look at you, Zayn the philosopher.” Louis knocks his shoulder against Zayn’s, who chuckles, shrugging.

“Don’t know where that came from. Just sorta felt fitting.” Zayn readjusts his grip on his backpack, and Louis nods slowly. 

It’s as soon as Louis opens his mouth to tell Zayn the thing that had been itching to be set free that he hears the commotion coming from outside.

He and Zayn exchange a glance as they hear a familiar voice, and they run down the front steps of the school as they see a small crowd out front.

Scanning the crowd, Louis can see Oli’s bright red hair, standing in front of Harry’s bright blue car, and Louis’ heart sinks as he can now see Harry’s face, dark and testy, mouth set in an angry grimace.

“Well, damn.” Zayn’s voice overcomes the ringing in Louis’ ears as they get closer. Louis can now hear Oli’s words that are rising above the crowd. 

“Ever since you’ve come here, you’ve done nothing but mess everything up. Our star player, in case you forgot, is going to blow an entire academic opportunity because he’d rather hang out with you and smoke with hippies and drive around in blue fagmobiles.”

Oli’s words spit across the limited space between him and Harry, and Louis is trying to push through the crowd because he knows Oli and he knows Harry and he knows what’s coming next. 

“You’ve taken him away from his friends, his team, his fucking girlfriend. He has a girlfriend, in case you forgot.” Louis can practically hear the venom dripping from Oli’s words, and they’re like a punch to Louis’ gut. 

“Why should I pay any attention to you? I don’t see you putting in any more effort than to tell him what a shit friend he’s being.” Harry’s tone is icier than Louis has ever heard before, and he feels like the crowd of people is getting bigger and he’s just getting smaller. 

“What would a queer like you know about shitty friends? What the fuck are you trying to do, make _him_ gay too?”

Louis can see through the crowd now, and as he sees how close Oli is standing now, he knows that one more wrong word, and there will be more than words going back and forth.

Louis starts shoving now, but by the time he’s close enough he hears Harry’s words.

“If it’s either being gay or being anything like you, I wonder what he’d rather choose.” Harry’s voice is a low snarl, so only Oli and Louis can hear, and Oli lunges forward, fists balled.

“Oli, _stop._ Fucking _STOP._ ” Louis pushes his way through the rest of the people and grabs Oli’s arm, yanking him back before he’s able to land the punch he was about to throw.

Oli whips around, and Louis can see the anger in his face as he pulls his arm away. “What the hell, Louis? Don’t tell me you’re about to stick up for this pansy.” Oli sneers, and Louis can feel red hot heat boil in his stomach.

“So what if I am, Oliver? He’s a fucking human, same as you.” Louis stands his ground as Oli looks him up and down, the scowl deepening on his face. 

“You know something, Tommo? If I didn’t know you any better, I’d think you were soft for this freak.” Oli’s voice is quiet but menacing, and Louis inhales slowly, his hands balling into fists.

“If sticking up for my friends makes me soft, then fuck all, I guess I’m soft.” Louis stares at Oli, whose face is turning redder and angrier by the second. 

As they stand there, motionless, Louis can see Zayn and Liam coming up to them out of the corner of his eye, Liam grabbing at Oli’s arms to pull him away, and Zayn standing next to Louis, a hand protectively on his arm.

“Come on, Oli, let it go. Let it fucking go.” Liam mutters as he pulls at Oli’s arm, and Oli shakes his head in disgust.

“You make me sick, Tomlinson. I thought I knew you.” Oli looks between Harry and Louis, and spits on the ground before he spins on his heel, pushes through the crowd, and disappears from sight. 

Louis’ knees begin shaking then, and Zayn grips his arm tightly. “Oli’s a prick. Don’t let him get to you, Lou.” Zayn’s voice is in his ear, but the only thing Louis can think about focusing on is Harry.

Louis lifts his eyes to look at him, and feels an ache in his heart as he sees Harry, staring at the ground, mouth pursed tight. 

Louis pats Zayn’s hand, and takes a step towards Harry. “H?” he says softly, warily, and Harry looks up. The ache in Louis’ heart grows as he sees the hurt in Harry’s eyes, masked behind his infamous stoic nonchalance. 

Harry nods, and smiles a small, tense smile.

“Just dandy.” Harry opens the door to his car as he speaks, and Louis watches helplessly as Harry turns the key and drives away, students scattering as he speeds out of the parking lot. 

Zayn stands next to him silently, and Louis feels tears pricking at his eyes as he feels Zayn’s hand come to rest on his shoulder.

“Louis?” Zayn’s voice is almost a whisper, and Louis sniffles, willing his tears to go back into his eyes.

“Hey. Let’s go.” Louis lets Zayn lead him to his old, beat up hatchback, and Louis lets the tears fall once he’s safe in Zayn’s car. 

He tells Zayn everything that day. Starting from the middle of summer, to when Harry first came to town, to what happened at the cliffs. 

He tells him about the record shop.

He tells him about the phone calls, and the lamps in the windows. 

He tells him every last thing, and when he’s done, Zayn is silent. 

Zayn is silent for a long time, and Louis begins to worry. They’d been driving around aimlessly, Zayn never saying a word, but now Zayn is pulling into an empty parking lot, and Louis is beginning to feel like he should panic. 

Zayn kills the engine, and folds his hands on top of his steering wheel, staring out the windshield as he chews on his lip.

Louis doesn’t know where to keep his eyes, so he looks at a DeadHead sticker that Liam stuck to Zayn’s glove compartment ages ago. 

Zayn inhales, and then exhales slowly. Louis shifts uncomfortably in his seat. 

“Fuck, Louis.” are Zayn’s first words. 

“I’d get it, you know,” Louis stammers. “If you, like, didn’t want to be my friend anymore. Just please, please don’t tell anybody because I don’t know what I’d do if-”

Louis quickly closes his mouth as Zayn turns to him, and he sees tears glistening in Zayn’s warm, brown eyes.

“What?” Louis asks, and Zayn just shakes his head before reaching across the seat and pulling Louis into a tight hug.

Louis buries his face in Zayn’s jacket that smells like smoke and body spray, and Zayn squeezes him tighter.

“I’d never not want to be your friend because of something like this, Lou. Never in a million years.”

Louis’ eyes well up at Zayn’s reassurance, and he sniffs.

“I do think you need to do something about the Eleanor situation, and fast. Word’s gonna spread even faster now, you know. You can’t have anything risking your chances for that damn team.”

Louis leans away, nodding as he takes in Zayn’s words. As he looks at Zayn, he wonders how he got so lucky to have a friend like him. 

Zayn smiles at him then, and grabs his arm, giving it a squeeze. “Hey. I love you, Lewis. No matter what or who you are.” Zayn pats his cheek, and Louis laughs softly, leaning into the touch in thanks. 

They sit in the car quietly for a minute, letting the moment pass over them, until Zayn clears his throat.

“However, I do think you need to check in with Harry. He didn’t seem… what did he say, dandy?” Zayn lets out a soft snort then, and Louis shakes his head. 

“He’s a weird one, I’ll give him that. Didn’t peg him for your type, to be honest.” Louis’ face heats up at Zayn’s ribbing, and he gives Zayn a grin.

“Well I damn sure didn’t either. Especially considering.” Louis gestures to his lower region, and Zayn lets out a cackle. 

As Zayn drives him home, Louis finally feels like he can begin to be at peace. After weeks of feeling like he constantly had to be on his toes, being able to confide in someone feels… right.

It feels like maybe, finally, his world can start turning normally again. 


	11. ‘Spread Your Wings’ - Queen

_ _ _

Louis doesn’t see Harry for a few days after that.

He doesn’t see Harry’s car in the driveway, he doesn’t see the lamp on in his bedroom, and he doesn’t see him at the record shop.

He had gone there after the fight, but Barry had said that he hadn’t seen Harry that day. Louis had been worried then, but Louis is just getting more worried as the days pass.

He’s been going to soccer practice as usual, and his teammates haven’t been treating him any differently, except for Oli, who won’t even look at him. Frankly, Louis would rather as much. 

Louis had broken up with Eleanor on the third day of Harry being gone.

He had sat her down, and told her how he felt, and that he didn’t think it was fair of him to drag her along if he wasn’t in it with his heart.

He had told her that he still loved her, because he won’t just throw away over ten years of friendship.

She had hugged him, and told him that she had seen this coming, and that she wasn’t angry at him. 

He had spared some of the key details, but the main issue at hand is now resolved, and Louis can tic one thing off of the list he has to feel guilty about. 

Louis still stops by the record story every day after practice, just to see if Harry’s there, but his car is nowhere in sight. Louis feels like he’s biked around every corner of their town looking for him, but it’s almost like he’s fallen off the face of the earth. 

Louis is home after practice, lying on his bed, staring at his ceiling when he hears the phone ring. Choosing to ignore it, he flips over to lie on his stomach, covering his head with his pillow.

He hears Lottie answer the phone then, and he sighs as she calls his name.

“Louis, it’s for you.” he hears a knock at his door, and he sits up, rubbing his head. “Coming, coming.” he says to the knocking on his door, and he takes the phone from his sister as he opens the door.

“Hello?” he says as he gently pushes his sister away, and his heart skips a beat as he hears Harry’s soft chuckle on the other end of the line.

“Hi.” Harry’s voice is crackly and quiet through the receiver, but to Louis it sounds like music.

“Hey. Where the fuck are you and where have you been?” Louis whispers harshly, closing his door behind him and leaning against it, and he hears Harry’s staticy sigh.

“I’m sorry. I should have told you I was leaving. Can you, just… can you come to the record shop?” Harry’s request takes Louis by surprise, and Louis glances at the clock.

“H, it’s almost eight. The record shop closed an hour ago.” Louis shakes his head as he speaks, and Harry chuckles. 

“I have keys, remember? Barry doesn’t care.” Louis can hear shuffling from the other end, and Louis sighs, a smile creeping onto his face.

“Fine. I’ll be there in a bit.” 

Harry hums in acknowledgement, and Louis chews on his lip. They’re quiet for a moment, until Harry pipes up again. “Missed you, Lou. Hurry up.”

Louis’ smile grows as Harry’s soft words echo in his mind, but then the line goes dead. Louis rolls his eyes, but scrambles to his feet, all but skipping down the hallway to put the phone away.

As he pulls on his jacket and runs a hand through his hair, he thinks about what he’s going to tell his parents as he heads down the stairs. 

He can hear voices from the kitchen, and he tiptoes past them, slipping his feet into his old sneakers.

He has one hand on the doorknob when he hears a throat clearing, and Louis cringes, turning around to see his mother, arms crossed as she looks at him, brow furrowed.

“Where are you going? It’s eight.” Jay asks, and Louis scuffs his foot on the floor.

“Yeah, um. Liam asked me to come help him with some sports… thing. For shop. He’s building… something.”

Louis can tell his excuse is shit, and he can tell that Jay doesn’t really believe him. “I promise I won’t be home late. I’ll make it really quick.” Louis crosses his fingers and holds them up, Scout’s Honor style, and Jay smiles, shaking her head with a quiet laugh.

“Alright. Just come back in one piece, please.” Jay walks back into the kitchen as she speaks, and Louis sighs in relief, pulling the door open. 

Getting onto his bike, he pedals as fast as he can in the dimly lit streets, dodging parked cars and a few lingering pedestrians as he gets more and more anxious to see Harry.

He has no idea what could possibly be going on, or why Harry was asking him to go the record shop instead of just calling him at home, but as he pulls up to the shop and sees Harry’s car out front, all of his nerves disappear, because Harry is here.

Harry is here, and he can see a few lights on inside the record shop, and as he tosses his bike to the ground, hand reaching for the door, it swings open, and- 

Louis feels like all the wind was knocked out of him as he sees Harry. Absolutely nothing is different, from the braids in his hair to the boots on his feet, but Louis feels like he’s seeing Harry in a whole new way tonight. 

Tonight, he sees possibility, a new side of hope. 

They stand, just looking at each other, until Louis gives him a small smile. “Well hey, stranger.” 

Harry shakes his head, a smile growing on his face, and Louis squeaks as Harry grabs his wrist, pulling him into the shop.

Louis hears the door close behind him, but he’s too busy focusing on Harry’s hands that are now clutching his face, and then Harry’s lips that are now pressing against Louis’, softly but urgently. 

Louis melts into the touch, and Harry chuckles against his mouth, moving his hands to wrap around Louis’ waist. “Missed you.” Louis mumbles, and Harry squeezes Louis’ hips in response. 

Louis breaks away then, and smirks at Harry’s pout. “No more until you tell me where the hell you went. You had people scared, H.”

Louis’ eyes flicker over Harry’s face as he speaks, and Harry nods, sighing as he runs a hand through his hair. 

“I know. I’m sorry. I just… had to leave. Get out before I did something I’d regret, you know?” Harry’s words are tight, and Louis bites his lip.

He’s never seen this side of Harry before. The reserved, clouded, slightly angry side that sets Louis slightly on edge. 

He wants to pry an answer out of him, but Louis just nods and grabs Harry’s hand. “I get it. I was just worried. Really worried.” Louis says softly, and Harry smiles down at him, pulling him close then.

As Louis wraps his arms around Harry’s middle, he feels Harry press a kiss against his hair. “I’m sorry. I should have checked in with you before I left. Or something.” Harry’s voice is muffled, and Louis shrugs.

“Will you at least tell me why you left?” he leans farther into Harry’s grip as he hesitantly asks, and he feels Harry’s arms tighten around him slightly. 

Harry pauses for a moment, and then nods. “Yeah. But let’s not talk about it right now. Here, I have something for you.” Harry takes Louis’ hand and leads him over to the couch, where Louis can see a small package, wrapped, in a Harry-esque way, with brightly colored ribbons and paper.

Harry grabs it, and hands it to Louis, a slightly sheepish smile on his face. “I found this and thought of you.” 

Louis takes the package, and feels a slight blush on his cheeks as he reads the name tag that says “Loubaby”, and smirks affectionately. 

Carefully tearing the paper, he sees a small white box, and removing the lid, his eyes widen as he sees a small, silver medallion, attached to a dainty chain. Dangling the necklace from his fingers, he takes in the inscription written on it: ‘St. Christopher, protect us’. 

Louis looks up at Harry, slightly confused, and Harry runs a hand through his hair, his smile small and nervous.

“It’s a St Christopher medallion. He’s the patron saint of travel. Supposed to protect you on your walk of life, and stuff like that. It’s a Catholic thing.” Harry says in explanation, and Louis nods slowly.

“I was just thinking that since you’re, like, going to be in a big soccer league and travelling everywhere, it would be nice to know that you’ve got something looking after you when I can’t be there.

You really don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to, I won’t mind.” 

Louis’ eyes shoot up to Harry, who is watching him closely, and Louis tightens his grip on the necklace, the fond smile coming back onto his face.

“I love it. Thank you.” Louis smiles at Harry as he unclasps the necklace. He fumbles with attaching it, and Harry chuckles.

“C’mere. Let me do it.” Harry takes the necklace from Louis’ hands and deftly attaches the two ends together, Louis feeling the cold metal against his skin. 

Louis closes his eyes as Harry wraps his arms around him and pulls him close, pressing close mouthed kisses to his neck.

He leans into Harry’s chest, humming contentedly, and Harry kisses him one final time before resting his cheek on Louis’ hair.

“How do some fries sound?” Harry whispers, and Louis laughs, craning his neck to look at Harry, who is now smiling that adorable, crooked smile that Louis knows only comes out when Harry is happily in the moment.

Louis nods, but then sees the small backpack on the floor next to the couch. Louis can tell that Harry notices, and Harry clears his throat as Louis turns back to look at him, an eyebrow raised.

“Where’s the backpack from?” Louis asks in what he hopes is a nonchalant way, and Harry lets him go, propping himself on the couch now as an odd look comes over his face.

“It’s, um. It’s a friend’s.” Harry explains half heartedly after a minute of silence, and Louis crosses his arms, a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach now. 

“Well, who’s the friend?” The words fall out of Louis’ mouth before he can catch them, and he cringes at how possessive he sounds.

He sees a look flash over Harry’s face as he stares at Louis, and Harry shifts uncomfortably. 

“You wouldn’t know him.” Harry’s eyes flick back up to meet Louis’, and Louis inhales slowly.

“Okay. Makes sense, considering I hardly know anything about you.” Louis’ words come out more harshly than he meant them to, and Harry’s eyes fall back to the ground. 

Louis is kicking himself inwardly now, because _how_ could he be so mean and stupid? He doesn’t care about Harry’s past or what he doesn’t know about him, and now Harry is quiet and pensive and Louis _hates_ this. 

Louis opens his mouth to apologize when Harry speaks up again. 

“You’re right. I haven’t told you or anyone anything. And I’m sorry, I really am. But…” Harry trails off, and Louis steps forward, moving to cut him off but Harry leans away, shaking his head.

“No, Lou, let me finish. You deserve to understand at least a little part of why I don’t like talking about myself. And I guess there’s no better time than now.”

Harry shrugs, a barely noticeable twitch of his shoulders, and Louis looks down at his dirty sneakers, chewing on his lip.

“Okay.” The word comes out a whisper, and Louis feels Harry grab his hand.

“Come here.” Harry tugs at his hand, and Louis follows him to sit down on the couch, and he swings his legs up to tangle with Harry’s out of habit.

He’s scared for a split second that Harry is going to ask him to stop, but Harry rests his hands on Louis’ knees like he always does, and Louis is relieved for another one of the small shreds of normalcy he’s felt tonight. 

They stay quiet for a minute, Harry tracing patterns on Louis’ knee absently, until Harry begins talking, voice low and informal. 

“When I lived in New York, I wasn’t… the coolest kid. I’ve always liked to dress differently, or listen to weird music, or hang out with my sister instead of other boys my age.

My mom always supported me, and didn’t let me believe what other people had to say about me. She drilled it into my head that there wasn’t anything wrong with wanting to be different, and I believed her. I still do.

Other people weren’t so forgiving. I was able to get away with some stuff when I was younger, like hanging out with Gemma, and wearing her shirts sometimes.

But as I got older, and more involved in school, and had more friends, there were always some of _those_ people. I guess I was a little strange, but no more than any of the other people I hung out with. Like, it’s New York City, you’re going to find people like me just hanging around.”

Harry’s hand stops moving for a moment, and Louis begins fidgeting with his necklace, staring at Harry’s hand that resumes tracing as he speaks. 

“I had a friend there. Niall. My best friend, actually. We grew up together, lived next door our whole lives.

Niall was there through all the phases I went through, and he supported me even when the friends I thought I had didn’t.

He was the only person who knew everything about me, which meant he was the only one to know about me being gay.

He never told anyone, because he’d never do that. But he was the only one who was there for me when it actually got out. 

There was this boy, another friend of mine. He was president of the drama club, and was on student council, and was really well liked. Never had a scandal in his life. I thought he was perfect. He was just one of those people, someone that I wanted to be so badly.

Back then I hardly knew who I was, or who I wanted to be. I had no idea what I felt about him, or anyone.

But one day, we were in the theatre, just talking, working on the set for something, and he just… kissed me. Out of the blue. I remember feeling like such a dickhead, because I hadn’t reacted, and I didn’t know if I was supposed to, or what I was even supposed to do. I remember looking at him, and he had looked at me with this weird, gloaty look on his face, like he had just won some game.

I found out later that’s exactly what he did. A sick game that people had thought up to try and get me to come out, or get me in trouble, I still don’t even know why.

He twisted what had happened. He told everyone that I kissed him, and that I had groped him, and all this nasty bullshit that wasn’t true. Everyone who I knew and who I thought were my friends believed him, and I became this person in people’s eyes.

I was the sex offender. I was the fag who felt up innocent boys to get my rocks off. I was the person your parents warned you about. 

All the people I knew turned into people who hated me, except for Niall. He let me stay at his house when I couldn’t handle staying at mine, and didn’t care what people said when they found out. He never let anything phase him.

I was a wimp back then. I was coming to terms with who I was, and when that happened I couldn’t handle myself. I couldn’t think of a reason for me to exist if nobody else wanted me to.

I closed myself off from everything and everyone, staying in one room for days on end. I didn’t eat, I hardly slept. I was too stupid and immature to think of anybody who mattered, and so, in my mind, the only logical option was to… kill myself.”

Harry stops talking as his voice becomes shaky, and Louis’ stomach is twisting as he feels his fingernails digging into his palms.

Louis’s eyes flicker up to Harry, and he can see him staring at the backpack on the floor, face expressionless. 

Harry inhales deeply, and then exhales, continuing.

“Niall was the one who found me. I don’t remember much of it except finally waking up, and puking everywhere. Niall had had a feeling that I was going to try something stupid, and so he’d hidden almost all the sharp things in my house and his. I guess he didn’t think I’d get desperate.” 

Harry chuckles darkly after that statement, and Louis bites his lip so hard he feels the sharp, metallic taste of blood in his mouth.

“I had broken a mirror. Of all things, I’d figured I needed the 13 years of bad luck too. I don’t remember doing it, maybe it’s just the part of the brain that suppresses trauma, I don’t know.

But Niall had come home to me in the basement, surrounded by glass and sitting under a broken mirror. His mom was a nurse, so Niall knew how to clean wounds and stuff. I still don’t know if he ever told her. 

After that day, I closed myself off even more. I didn’t go back to school. I didn’t talk to my family, I hardly talked to Niall. He’d bring me food every day, offered to help me with my school, but I wouldn’t even acknowledge him. He did everything in his power to bring me back, but he just couldn’t. 

Then, one day, he brings home a record. It was the ‘News Of The World’ album, and he was listening to it in his room when ‘Spread Your Wings’ came on. I remember leaning against the wall, and listening to the words, and feeling something.

I finally felt something, and I remember crying, and Niall coming in and just hugging me. I went home that night, for the first time in months, and I told my mom everything.

That’s when she told me that she had gotten a new job. A better job, one that’s going to take her everywhere. She wanted to leave me there, with Niall, so I could finish out school, but I told her that I wanted to go with her.

It took convincing her. Niall even helped me, even though he knew what it meant. He never stopped looking after me, even when I packed my bags and said my goodbyes. 

I’d send him letters from wherever we were, and he’d always write back. I’d put every tiny bit of detail into my letters, telling him about where we were and how I was, and he’d always write back just as much.

He’d send me pictures of his brother’s baby or of his parent’s dog, or he’d write about how the awful lady next door blamed him for stepping in her flower beds for the millionth time. My mom still made me go to school, but I was getting better again, and I could finally stop caring about what other people saw if I reminded myself that I’d only be there for a few months anyway.

I started experimenting with my clothes, my hair, my name, even. I started collecting records. I’d send him pictures of places I’d been, or new records I’d gotten, and he’d be his usual supportive self. 

Then, one day, the letters stopped. The letters I sent got returned, and I couldn’t get in touch with anyone. I had called the school, and his parent’s house, but got nothing. My mom had even offered to drive me back there, just to find him, but I said no. I figured that wherever he was, he’d come back to the house, and he’d find me like he always did. Because he was Niall, and Niall was always there, and he always would be.”

Harry abruptly stands up then, Louis’ legs falling to the side, and he sits down next to the backpack on the floor, gingerly pulling it into his lap. 

“We were in Arizona for a few months before we moved here. While we were there, this got mailed to me. There was no postmark, nobody we knew had our newest address, and the box looked like it had been through some shit.

But this is his backpack, and when I opened it up, there were almost all the letters I’d ever mailed him. The letters, a few shirts, his soccer cleats, and the Queen record.

When I picked up the Queen record, another letter fell out. It was in an unopened envelope, and it had Niall’s handwriting on it. 

It only had a few sentences on it. He said that he was sorry he had to stop writing, and that he missed me. He said that he had to get out of the town, and he wished he could tell me why in the letter, but that he’d have to wait until he saw me again. He said it was too much to explain in a letter. 

The only other thing on it was an address. An address in California with only the numbers and the street. I didn’t go to school for a month after I got the package. I sat in the library for days, trying to find every single address that matched this one.

Turns out, there are a million and ten of these streets in California.”

Harry snickers softly, to himself, and Louis is still, so still he feels like he’d shatter if he moved. 

“Is that… is that why you moved here?” he asks, his voice coming out in a raspy whisper, and Harry looks up, eyes glassy as he shakes his head.

“Nah. My mother got relocated, and it just happened to work out.” Harry sniffs quietly, and looks back down to the backpack.

“I still haven’t found him. Sometimes I’ll just drive, hoping that somehow he’ll just appear at one of the places I’ll go. Just, wishful thinking, you know?” Harry runs a hand through his hair as he clears his throat, seeming to dismiss the tears that almost made an appearance.

“Either way, it’s been almost a year since the package came, and I haven’t heard heads or tails from him. And that’s the whole story, I guess.” Harry shrugs in finality, and gently places the backpack on the floor next to him.

He gestures for Louis to come to him, and Louis obliges, immediately positioning himself on Harry’s lap, resting his head on Harry’s shoulder as he feels Harry’s arms wrap around him. 

“I’m really sorry, H. I shouldn’t have been a bitch about it.” Louis’ words are muffled in Harry’s shirt, and Harry shakes his head, his hair tickling Louis’ face.

“You weren’t. You deserved to know. It’s a pretty big part of my life, and so are you, and so you deserved to know.” Louis’ cheeks are warmed by Harry’s words, and he lifts his head to look at Harry, who is watching him with a small smile, and he places a hand on Harry’s cheek, smiling back at him.

“Thank you for trusting me. Really.” Louis leans forward to press a kiss to Harry’s nose, and Harry giggles softly.

“There’s nobody I’d rather pour my heart out to than you, Lou.” Harry whispers, and Louis smiles as Harry’s lips press against his. 

Their kiss grows deeper and more lazy, and Louis wraps his arms around Harry’s neck as they slowly lay on the floor, Harry’s hands perfectly gripping Louis’ back the way they always do. 

Harry’s words are still rushing through Louis’ mind as he tries to make sense of everything, but here, in this moment, it’s only him and Harry.  
And in this moment, that is all that matters. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello again!
> 
> ugh. in between my show closing suddenly, sickness going around, and other stuff, this took a million years. I’m sorry for the wait, but hopefully this chapter answers some questions about Harry’s past, and what could be coming up soon.
> 
> thank you again for all the support. tpwk. 
> 
> ~a


	12. 'Purple Rain' - Prince

_ _ _

It had been a few weeks since Harry’s disappearance. Louis had kept tabs on Harry the first day or so back at school, but Harry slipped right back in like nothing had happened.

Some people talked, but most people were still just as infatuated with Harry as they had been since day one (Louis included).

He’d catch Zayn watching him more now, often with a small, knowing smile on his face, and he’d find Zayn and Harry talking more now than they used to, which Louis didn’t find too strange. 

What he did find strange is how Zayn acted around Liam now. Eleanor and Sophia still sat at their lunch table, and Louis was fine with that.

But sometimes, he’d see Zayn’s eyes glancing between Liam and Sophia as they sat next to each other at the table, being couple-y, and he’d see Zayn’s face fall a little more after each passing moment.

Louis would tangle his feet with Zayn’s whenever he saw it happen, and Zayn would immediately snap out of it like it never happened. 

He and Harry are lying on the hood of Harry’s car, looking out over the cliffs on one of the sunnier October Saturdays when he brings it up for the first time. 

“Have you noticed how weird Zayn gets around Liam now? Like, almost like he’s mad at him.” Louis curls closer to Harry as he speaks, and Harry hums, tightening his grip around Louis.

“Yeah, I’ve noticed it. We’ve talked about it.” Harry buries his nose into Louis’ hair as a gust of wind picks up, and Louis scoffs. “Zayn talked to you? How actually unfair.” Louis pouts, and Harry laughs.

“Don’t take it personally, Lou. If it makes you feel any better, he didn’t tell me too much.” Harry says as he pokes at Louis’ arm, and Louis sits up, looking down at Harry with a scowl growing on his face. 

“Well, what did he say? It’s been driving me crazy.” Louis fiddles with his necklace with one hand and keeps a firm grip on Harry’s hand with the other, and Harry shrugs, looking down at their hands.

“He just needs to figure some stuff out. He’ll come around.” Harry squeezes Louis’ hand as he speaks, and Louis sighs, turning to look out at the view. 

The ocean is calmer today, and the gulls are still flying around like they always do. Louis can smell the salt mixing with the autumn air, and he can hear the wind rustling the trees around them. 

“Everything just feels so weird now.” Louis sighs, and he feels Harry sit up and scoot closer to him, placing a hand on Louis’ lap.

“Yeah. It’ll pass. It always does.” Harry’s voice is calm and reassuring, and Louis leans his head against Harry’s shoulder. 

They sit quietly for a few minutes, like they’re prone to do, when Harry pipes up again. 

“Hey. Do you want to come over?”

Louis blinks in surprise, and lifts his head to look at Harry, who is staring out at the ocean.

They’d lived near each other for months already, but neither of them had ever been to the other’s house.

Harry raises his eyebrow in question as he turns to look at Louis, hair blowing around in the wind, and Louis is trying not to let all the adoration he suddenly feels out onto his face. 

Louis shrugs, a cheeky smirk on his face. “All this time, I was beginning to think that you’d never ask.” he teases, shoving Harry gently, and a grin breaks out over Harry’s face as he grabs at Louis’ hands, pulling him close to plant a small kiss to his mouth.

“Come on, you dick.” Harry rolls his eyes as he slides off of the hood, and Louis follows suit, still smirking as he opens the passenger side door. 

When they pull up to Harry’s house, Louis is suddenly hit with a small case of nerves.

He finds himself glancing over to his house, keeping an eye out for his step father’s truck, and when he turns back he sees Harry watching him, his brows turned down slightly.

“You okay?” Harry asks softly, and Louis nods his head. “Yeah. Just… let’s go inside.” he pushes the door open, and Harry trails behind him closely. 

Louis lets Harry pass to open his front door, and before Louis walks though it he briefly looks back at his house one last time before shutting the door behind him. 

He can smell essential oils and perfume through the house, and as he turns to take everything, he is for some reason surprised by how ordinary everything looks, if a little sparse. Normal walls with normal pictures, rugs on the floor, plants in the windows. 

Harry is watching him take everything in, and he grabs Louis’ hand, pulling him to the stairs, kicking his shoes off as he speaks, Louis following suit.

“We never really do much decorating, especially if we don’t know how long we’re going to stay. Mom said we’re here till the school year ends at least, so she might have more plans to decorate.” 

Louis follows Harry closely, and he looks at the pictures on the wall as they pass. He spots young Harry with short, curly hair, middle school Harry with big grins and school uniforms, highschool Harry in front of a tree, and as he smiles as he sees a photo of Harry with a girl he’s never seen before, the girl squishing his face with a grin. 

“Who is this?” Louis asks, and Harry stops, eyeing the picture Louis is pointing to. “Oh. That’s Gemma. My sister.” Harry says with a smile on his face, and Louis looks back to the picture.

He can see the resemblance now that he knows the connection, and as they continue up the stairs, Louis can see more pictures of her. 

They stop in front of a door at the end of the hallway, and Harry places a hand on the doorknob, smirking down at Louis. “Well, here we are. Home sweet home.” Harry twists the handle, and as he pushes the door open Louis’s mind races with what he’s going to see.

He pictures silk sheets, and greenery, and gold, but he finds himself surprised at how empty Harry’s room is. 

There are boxes along one of the dark blue walls, still unpacked, and Louis can see records peeking out of some of them. There are a few posters around, a framed picture or two.

He can see some clothes of all different fabrics strewn on a desk that is resting underneath an open window, where he can see a lamp and a telephone.

He can see a brightly colored throw blanket on top of the plain white sheets on the bed that Harry disrupts as he collapses onto it, arms stretched out.

“C’mere.” he says, wiggling his fingers in Louis’ direction as he situates himself on the bed, and Louis hesitates for only a moment before stepping out and falls down next to Harry, who rolls over, pressing his nose against Louis’ arm. 

Louis stares up at Harry’s ceiling, where he notices small, glow-in-the-dark stars, and he smiles fondly, bringing a hand up to tangle in Harry’s curls.

“Nice stars, moonman.” he whispers, tugging gently on Harry’s hair, and Harry huffs out a laugh as he moves to rest his cheek on Louis’ shoulder.

“I bring them everywhere we go. I can’t sleep without them.” Harry’s voice is soft and sleepy, and Louis is overwhelmed with the amount of fondness that threatens to boil over. 

This boy, this long haired boy with rings and flowery shirts, this boy with a fancy car and nail polish. 

This boy who will listen to Louis ramble for hours, and who will buy him fries after a hard practice, and who holds Louis’ hand in the car, and who can go from serious and calm to cheeky and rambunctious in seconds. 

There is something about this boy, and Louis had never felt anything like this for anyone.

As they lay there, Harry’s breath on his neck, Louis’ hand still twisted in Harry’s hair, Louis realizes what this is. 

Louis is in love with this boy, this perfect, lovely boy.

The boy with stars in his eyes and on his ceiling. The boy with a past dark enough to make Louis want to give him the brightest future. 

Louis feels his eyes sting as he looks down at Harry, whose eyes are closed now, lashes resting like butterflies, and Louis presses his lips against the top of Harry’s head.

He blinks quickly as he feels tears threatening to spill over, and he tries to ignore the new, discomforting feeling that is lurking in his stomach.

As the thoughts begin to spiral, he’s brought back by Harry wrapping an arm around his middle and scooting closer to him, humming contentedly.

“Stop thinking. Sleep.” Harry mumbles, and Louis laughs softly as Harry’s legs tangle with his.

“Alright, sleeping beauty. Whatever you say.” he whispers, kissing Harry’s forehead again before closing his eyes, eventually drifting off to the sound of Harry’s soft snores and the smell of lavender and vanilla. 

When Louis wakes up, there’s dull twilight outside, and he can hear the voices of people echoing through the window. The room has grown chillier, and he crinkles his nose as he stretches his arm out.

Louis frowns as his hand comes in contact with bedsheets, and he twists his head to see that Harry isn’t there with him. 

“Good morning, sunshine.” He hears the words come from the other side of the room, and he turns to see Harry sitting on the floor with a smile on his face, records strewn around him.

Louis gets out of the bed, not saying a word, and lays down next him, resting his head in Harry’s lap. Harry chuckles and runs a hand through Louis’ hair.

“Not a morning person?” Harry pesters gently, and Louis shakes his head, pressing his face into Harry’s thigh.

“Not a waking up person.” he mumbles, and Harry snickers again, picking up a record and sliding it into a sleeve. 

Louis watches his hands move for a few minutes, then grabs a record before Harry does, looking at it. “Fleetwood Mac? Of course.” Louis mutters, and Harry scoffs, taking the record from him.

“Fleetwood Mac is the epitome of power music. Don’t talk about Stevie like that.” Harry gently hits him with a cardboard sleeve as he speaks, and Louis rolls his eyes. “Okay, you hippie.” 

Louis’ eyes run over all the records that are still lying around, and sees many that are at the record shop, and then some he’s never seen in person before. “Where do you even get all these?” he asks, and Harry pauses, thinking.

“I’ve gotten a lot by travelling. You never really know what you’re going to find, especially now that a lot of things are going onto cassettes and CDs.”

Harry reaches for another record, and Louis sits up, wrapping his arms around himself as the window sends in a draft of cold air. 

Harry glances at him, and leans over to grab a grey pullover sweater from his desk. “Here. Put this on so you don’t get cold.” Harry winks as he tosses the sweater to Louis, who catches it with a snort.

“Why don’t you just close the window?” he asks as he pulls the sweater, which is impossibly soft, over his head, and he hears Harry hum. “I like the way outside smells.” 

Louis looks at him after hearing his answer, and he shakes his head fondly as he sees Harry staring out the window, an absent look on his face, and he scoots over to wrap his arms around Harry’s middle.

“I like the way you smell.” Louis rests his head against Harry’s hip, and Harry laughs over the sound of a truck that Louis recognizes well. 

Louis stiffens, and his head jerks up as he moves to look out the window. “Shit.” he whispers, standing, and Harry looks at him in confusion.

“What? What is it?” he stands to follow after Louis, and Louis sighs.

“Mark’s home. I’ve got to go, he’ll be mad if he figures out I’ve been gone all day.” he explains slowly, and Harry nods.

“I’ll walk you.” he says softly, and takes Louis’ hand as he steps closer. 

They walk in silence down the hallway, down the stairs, and to the front door. Louis slides his shoes on, still not letting go of Harry’s hand, and he looks back up at Harry, who is watching him with a vaguely uneasy expression.

“You okay?” Louis asks gently, and Harry gives him a small, wary smile. “Yeah. Are you?” Harry asks in return, and Louis nods.

“I will be. Mark’s just… a lot to handle sometimes.” Louis sighs as he speaks. 

Harry is silent as he tugs Louis towards him, and Louis squeezes his eyes shut as Harry’s arms wrap around him comfortingly, and they stand there, Harry running his hands up and down Louis’ back as Louis presses his face into Harry’s chest.

“I’ll be here, so you call me if you need me.” Harry’s chest vibrates as he speaks, and Louis nods. 

As he leans away and pulls the door open, he can hear his sister’s voices from outside. He pauses, and turns to look at Harry. “What do I tell them?” he asks, voice low, and Harry laughs.

“Tell them you were visiting the lonely neighbor. Your mom is one for sentiment.” Harry cracks, and Louis rolls his eyes, a smile coming back to his face.

”Thanks. I’ll give that a go.” he shakes his head as he steps out of the door, and Harry follows him, leaning against the doorway.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Lou. Don’t let the bedbugs bite.” Harry calls after him, and Louis laughs as he crosses the street, the pit in his stomach growing deeper as he sees Mark’s truck in his driveway. 

He pushes through his front gate, and before he opens the door to his house he turns around, the street lights flickering on around him.

Harry is still in his doorway, watching him, and Louis feels his heart patter.

He raises a hand in a wave, and Harry waves back.

Louis bites his lip against the smile on his face as he opens his front door, the smells of dinner wafting around him.

It feels like years since he’d smelled real cooking, and as he wanders into his kitchen he’s surprised, for some reason, to see his mother standing at the cooktop, humming as she stirs something in a pot. 

“Well hey, stranger.” Louis’ words startle Jay, who turns around quickly, throwing a hand over her heart in surprise.

“Louis, you can’t sneak up on me like that, I’ve got hot things everywhere.” Jay shakes her head as she scolds him, and Louis grins, walking up to her to plant a kiss to her cheek.

“Sorry, mama. It’s just nice to see you home.” he leans on the counter next to a plate full of chopped vegetables, and Jay smiles at him. 

“I’ve got the rest of the weekend off, and then some days into next week. I can bring the kids to your game, if you want?” Jay’s words remind Louis that he does, indeed, have a game next week, and he kicks himself for not getting any extra practice time in today.

“I’d love that.” Louis watches as Jay tosses a few more things into the pot before placing the lid on it, and Louis sees a look that Louis knows well come over her face as she turns to look at him. 

He groans, and Jay tosses a towel at him. “Don’t start with me, you don’t even know what I’m going to say.” Jay chides, and Louis sighs deeply, propping himself up against the counter as Jay continues.

”I just want to talk to you about some things that I’ve heard round the grapevine. Nothing bad.” 

The pit in Louis’ stomach now feels like it’s going to swallow him as his eyes flicker up to look at his mother, who is watching him with motherly concern.

“I ran into Eleanor’s mother at the store this morning. She says you two broke up a few weeks back ?” Jay’s voice is soft, and Louis exhales, staring at his shoes as he nods.

“Yeah. It just… didn’t feel right anymore.” The words feel foreign in Louis’ mouth, and Jay hums, walking over to a kitchen chair and sitting down. Gesturing for Louis to do the same, she continues. 

“I’m just a little disappointed that you didn’t talk to me about it. But, you are a smart boy, and if that’s what you felt is best I shouldn’t have to tell you what to feel or not feel.” Jay pats Louis’ hand as she speaks, and continues. 

“I don’t know what else is going on, or if that’s the only reason for why you did it, but I just want you to know that you’re my baby, and I’ll love you always. No matter what.” 

Louis’ eyes fly up to his mother, who is smiling at him with a small, knowing smile, and Louis’ heart feels like it’s going to race out of his chest.

He sits there, staring at her, and before he can get words out he hears Mark’s voice in the hallway.

Jay stands up then, squeezing Louis’ hand one final time before walking to the doorway, greeting Mark. 

Louis stares at the chair where his mother had sat, and he feels like his world is flying by in fast motion. 

_What the hell did she mean?_

_Does she know?_

_How can she know?_

_Someone must have seen them, which means he needs to be more careful._

_If she knows, who else knows?_

Louis is shaken from his trance as his youngest sister catapults herself into his lap, and he’s suddenly surrounded by chattering children.

He absently pulls Doris into his lap as he looks up to where Mark is standing in front of him, a wry smile on his face.

“Coach told me about the scouts coming a few weeks ago. He said you made a good impression.” Mark says, and Louis nods, letting go of the squirming child in his lap. 

“Going to have to try and catch a game at some point before the league takes you away from us.” Mark picks up Ernest as he speaks, and Louis laughs softly, watching as Mark tickles the toddler, sending him into a fit of screams.

Jay turns around, shaking her head as she laughs at the two of them, and Louis feels like they could be the picture of the American dream if things weren’t so ass backwards.

Mark is about to leave the room when he stops, and turns around to face Louis. “Oh, Louis. I heard about Eleanor. Have to say, it’s a shame. She would have been great to have in the family.” Louis’ stomach drops as he listens to Mark, who continues. 

“Well, what can I say. A glitzy soccer career over a good family woman is temptation that I know I’d have trouble resisting. Can’t say I blame you.” Mark is staring at him now, and Louis keeps his face casual as he stares back. 

Jay begins to speak up, but Mark waves her off dismissively. “No, no need to get all defensive. I know he’s a big man, and can handle himself, that’s obvious. I’m just saying that he should think about his future once soccer’s over for him. She isn’t just going to sit around and wait for him until he figures out he made a mistake.”

Mark’s voice grows more patronizing with each word, and Louis’ jaw clenches.

“I’m not expecting her to just sit and wait for me. We aren’t getting back together.” Louis forces the words out, and Mark sneers.

“Of course you will. Nobody else will be able to deal with you, I can tell you that much. You’re more high maintenance than Lottie.” Mark gestures to the living room, where Louis is sure that Lottie is trying to block everything out with the television. 

Louis shakes his head with a quiet scoff. “Wouldn’t you know.” Louis mutters, and Mark scowls.

“Stop talking to yourself and talk to me like a man, since you think that’s what you are.” Mark’s words are dripping with disdain, and Louis looks back up at him, and he feels his fists balling. 

“I said, wouldn’t you know.” Louis’ voice is slow and defiant, and out of the corner of his eye he sees Jay turn around and face the stove, head bowed.

Mark lets out a loud, mocking laugh, and Louis feels a thread of fear creep into his chest as he stares at his stepfather, who is watching him silently. 

“People were talking about the new neighbors at the job today. Heard the boy’s a pillow biter.” Mark’s words hit Louis like a ton of bricks, and he wills his face to stay still as Mark’s eyes move over him.

“Have you been hanging around with him?” Mark asks, and Louis feels like he’s going to be torn in two. 

“He sits at our table at lunch. He has for a few months now. He’s a good guy.” Louis replies after a moment, and leans back against the chair, staring at Mark, daring him to say anything else. 

Mark hums, and moves to walk out of the room before he stops, looking over his shoulder at Louis. “Let me tell you now, Louis, that if I hear that he’s been in this house, you can expect to be out on the streets with his nancy ass.” 

Mark’s words send a chill down Louis’ spine, and he follows Mark with his eyes as he walks out of the room.

Jay is silent, and Louis can feel his hands ache as he unballs them, flattening them against his thighs.

They stay put in silence for a few moments, the bubbling pot and the voices of the kids in the other room the only sounds around them. 

Louis abruptly stands up and strides out of the room, swinging around the corner and walking down the hallway until he reaches the front door.

Slamming the door behind him, he takes off in a run down the street, forcing himself to not look at Harry’s house to see if the light is on. 

It’s all but dark outside now, and he lets the tears come as he runs, soft sobs racking his chest as the thoughts pound through his head. 

_He can never be himself here._

_He will never be loved here._

_He will never be accepted here._

_He can never escape here._

_He will always be hated here._

Louis runs, he runs until he can’t run anymore, and he collapses to the ground, panting as he rests his arms on his knees.

He sits there quietly for a minute, and wipes the tears from his face as he sniffles. He knows now what his only option is. 

He needs to make it into the NACL. He needs to get out of this town. 

_Nobody will accept you._

Harry will. 

_Nobody would go anywhere with you._

Harry will.

_Nobody will cheer for you._

Harry will. 

_Nobody will believe in you._

Harry will.

Louis stands up then, and starts walking back towards his neighborhood, but then picks up into a jog, and then a full run. He runs until he sees Harry’s house in the near distance.

He doesn’t stop running until he reaches it, and he grabs a few pebbles from the ground in front of the house.

He aims for Harry’s window, which he can see is still open, and he tosses them above his head, hearing the clink of the stones meeting glass. 

“Come on, you little shit.” Louis whispers to himself, and throws another stone. His heart rate picks up as he sees Harry’s head appear in the window, a confused look on his face, and as a smile overtakes Harry’s confusion, Louis lifts a hand in greeting. 

“Would you look at that, a handsome, sweaty man is throwing rocks at my window. Whatever could I have done to deserve this blessing?” Harry’s soft, teasing words make Louis’ head spin, and he shakes his head, laughing breathlessly.

“Can you come down? Please?” Louis’ voice is a loud whisper, and Harry nods, immediately leaving the window. 

Louis is trying to figure out the words for what he’s going to say when the door opens, and all the breath leaves Louis’ body as he sees Harry standing in front of him, clad only in a pair of blue plaid pyjama bottoms, and hair braided into a bun on top of his head.

“Hi. Is everything okay?” Harry’s voice is full of concern as he reaches out a hand to Louis, but stops himself.

Louis says nothing, and stares at Harry for a few moments longer, soaking him in.

“Lou?” Harry asks again, and Louis inhales deeply, then exhales in a harsh sigh. 

“I need you to just listen to me for a minute, okay? Listen and don’t say anything.” Louis watches Harry’s face as he speaks, and Harry nods.

The words pour off of Louis’ tongue then, and they don’t seem like they’d ever stop. 

“I can’t stay here. The minute the league calls me, or anyone calls me, I’m out. I’m out, I’m gone, and I’m never fucking coming back. I don’t want to see this town again for the rest of my life, and I don’t want to see most of the people here either.

I’m going to leave everything, and that’s fine, but the one thing I couldn’t dare to leave behind is you.”

Louis pauses for a minute, waiting, and as Harry’s expression doesn’t change, he continues.

“I used to think that I would live the rest of my life hating who I was, and hating what I was supposed to be, and I used to think that I’d never be able to live the way I wanted to, because that’s what this town does to you. It sucks the life out of you, and I used to think there was nothing else. 

But now… now, you’re here. You’re the only good thing left about this damn town, but you don’t belong here. You belong in some fancy museum, or on a sailboat in the middle of the Pacific. And I know I can’t give that to you, not yet, anyways. 

Fuck, Harry, if I could take you away right now I would. I would take you to the ends of the fucking earth, because there has never been anyone or anything that I’ve loved more than you. 

And I know, I know what’s been happening, and I know that there’s crazy shit going on, and I know that we could never actually properly be together, and I don’t care.

We don’t ever have to do anything other than what we’ve been doing, or be more than what we are now, but I just want you around me forever, and I don’t care what that takes. I’ll do it. 

You don’t have to say anything, or agree with me, or even care at all. I just… I wanted to tell you. I wanted to tell you that I love you. And I’m in love with you. And I don’t even really know if I know what that means, but if it means that I get to feel like this forever, then I’ll take it.

I’ll take whatever you want to give me until the ends of time. And that’s… that’s it, I guess.” 

Louis swallows as the words finally stop coming, and he meets Harry’s eyes that are deep green and wide.

They stand in silence for a moment, and Louis is feeling the nausea rise in his stomach.

He’s all but ready to tell Harry to forget it and forget him and everything he said when Harry grabs his hand.

He holds Louis’ hand, and keeps his eyes locked with Louis’ as he twines their fingers together. 

“Take me to the ends of the earth, Mr. Tomlinson.” Harry whispers, and Louis feels like a million fireworks have gone off in his head as Harry pulls him in the house, closing the door behind them.

He wraps his arms around Harry’s neck as Harry presses him against the door, and their mouths meet then, kisses deep and warm, and Louis wraps his fingers in Harry’s hair. 

Louis can’t think about anything else other than Harry in that moment. 

Harry’s hair, Harry’s lips, Harry’s arms that are now tightly clasped around him, carrying him up the stairs as Louis’ legs wrap around Harry’s waist.

He doesn’t break their kiss until Harry lays him down on the bed, and Louis stares at Harry, whose hair is falling out of the bun on his head, whose lips are red and swollen, and whose eyes are glittering as they look down at Louis. 

“I love you.” Louis whispers, voice hoarse, and Harry places a hand on Louis’ cheek, smiling fondly.

“And I love you.” Harry whispers back, and the words send a thrill through Louis’ body from head to toe as Harry leans back in. 

They kiss for what feels like hours, perfectly content to do only that. They kiss until they’re breathless, and their lips are sore, and when Louis drifts off to sleep it’s with Harry’s arms wrapped around him, Harry’s head on his chest, legs tangled underneath the throw blanket. 

He doesn’t think about the hours before, or the days ahead. In this minute, the only things that matter are him and Harry, together under Harry’s ceiling of stars. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello loves!  
> I'm sorry this took so long, Ao3 and I were having some issues we had to sort out, but here it is! this is by far one of my favorite chapters I've written. 
> 
> tpwk.
> 
> ~a


	13. 'To Love Somebody' - BeeGees

_ _ _

Louis had been planning and plotting since that day at Harry’s. Every move of his has been calculated, from filling out college applications to taking extra hours on the practice field.

He’d run every morning before school, and at school he would take extra notes in classes and joke around with his friends, but would always make sure to keep his wandering glances to Harry in check.

After practice he’d head to the record shop to do his homework, where Harry would tuck himself under Louis’ legs as he quizzed him on chemistry formulas and math problems.

At night, he’d go home to his house and eat dinner before tucking the girls in, and when his mother came home and all the lights were finally out at his house, he would sneak out the front door and dash across the road to where Harry would be waiting, lamp on the desk burning brightly. 

They’d curl up together, Harry’s arms wrapping around Louis, legs folding together, and Louis would fall asleep to the soft snores that he never imagined he’d love so much.

This was Louis’ life for the time being, and even though he hated lying to his friends, and his mother, he knew this was for the best. He knew that he only had one real shot at getting out, and if this was the way things had to be, then so be it. 

What he didn’t expect to be so hard was keeping his friends in the dark. 

Zayn was the only exception to that, with him asking Louis in private about how things were, or what had been going on.

Louis was grateful to have at least one person he could talk to and trust, which is why when Liam approached him on a Friday, serious and asking to talk, Louis felt a weird sensation of nerves. 

Louis is thinking about what Liam would have to say as he walks down the hallway at the end of the school day, chewing on his lip as a pensive frown clouds his face, when he is startled by a hand bumping his arm.

His head jerks up as he hears a familiar chuckle, and he turns to see Harry walking next to him, nonchalant and faux aloof.

“Well hey there, Louis. How are you?” Harry asks, voice casual, and Louis snorts, readjusting his rucksack on his back.

“Who are you and what have you done with my Harry?” Louis elbows Harry with his free arm, and Harry smirks down at him. 

“Whatever do you mean? This is school, we’re just casual acquaintances. Like me and Anna Bedford, who was partnered with me once on a project and is now convinced we’re soulmates.”

Harry raises a hand in greeting as they pass a group of girls, a few of them whispering to themselves as they giggle, waving back.

Louis rolls his eyes, and protectively steps a little closer to Harry, unable to resist the urge as they continue down the hall. 

“Is everything okay? You don’t normally actively look for me in between the hours of eight and three. It’s kind of suspicious.” Louis stops as they reach his locker, and Harry leans on the lockers next to it as Louis spins the combination, shrugging.

“I just missed you today, and also, tomorrow’s Halloween.” 

Louis glances at Harry as he puts his books away, amused by his ability to head down two different tangents in one sentence.

“Yes, it is. What about it?” Louis asks, opening his rucksack to deposit some more items into his locker, and Harry raises an eyebrow at him.

“Did you really forget?” Harry asks, and Louis’ brain frantically tries to remember what he obviously forgot.

“What am I even- oh. _Oh._ ”

Louis groans and leans his head against his locker as he remembers Liam’s party. He had totally forgotten about it, and he knows that this is what Liam wanted to talk to him about, because what else could it be? Only the ‘most important party of the year’, as they’d all been saying since day 1. 

Harry shakes his head and clicks his tongue at Louis, looking over his shoulder at a passing group of students, nodding to a few as they go by.

“Liam is not going to be pleased with you.” Harry readjusts his shirt as he speaks, and Louis finally allows himself to take in what Harry is wearing today.

A silky, cherry red button-down with a long, attached necktie contrasts against his dark hair, and Louis decides that he especially loves Harry in red. 

“Hey, kids. How’s it hanging?” Louis blinks as he hears Liam’s voice behind him, and he spins around, meeting Liam’s cheerful glance with a small smile.

“Hey yourself. I was just going, but Louis, I’ll catch you tomorrow?” Harry winks at Louis as he leaves, and Louis nods, watching him disappear down the hallway.

“So, you remembered? Or did Harry have to remind you?” Louis winces as he hears Liam’s slightly hurt tone, and he turns back to where Liam is standing in front of him, arms crossed over his chest casually.

Louis sighs and pushes a hand into his hair, leaning against his locker. “I’m really sorry, Li. Things have been insane with me lately. It must have slipped my mind. You know I’d never forget on purpose.” Louis says apologetically, and Liam nods, still staring at him. 

Louis shuffles his feet uncomfortably. Liam had never been mad at him before. He was always the carefree, ‘parent’ friend. Louis feels like he’s treading thin ice with Liam now. 

“I’m not mad, Lou. I just kinda wonder how you managed to forget when it’s all we’ve talked about at lunch for the last week.” Liam always manages to somehow read Louis’ mind, but the addition of the slight dig at the end makes Louis cringe inside.

“I don’t know. I guess I’ve just been on my own planet. There’s been… a lot going on.” Louis shrugs, and Liam nods again, now looking down to stare at the floor. 

They’re quiet for a minute, the sounds in the hall dying down around them, and Liam sighs. “I just wish you’d talk to me. I feel like I hardly see you, and when I do, you’re in dreamland somewhere. Let me help you, man. You’re not the only one going through stuff, you know.”

Louis looks up at his friend, who is now watching him with a sad smile, and Louis feels his eyes prick. 

“I know.” Louis nods his head quickly, blinking his eyes to keep tears away, and Liam chuckles softly, swinging a fist in Louis’ direction.

“Since when did you become a crybaby? Come on, we’re gonna be late for practice.” Liam teases, and Louis rolls his eyes, picking his rucksack up off the ground and shutting his locker behind him.

“Ever since you decided to grow a beard. The thing is terrifying.” Louis shoots back, and Liam laughs loudly, falling into step next to Louis. “Yep. There’s the Tommo I know.” 

They walk down the hallway together, joking and teasing like they have for their whole lives, when suddenly Liam grows serious again.

Louis notices, but before he can ask about it, Liam stops, a frown furrowing his brow.

“I need to ask you something, and I need you to be really honest with me.” Liam glances up at Louis from where he had his eyes glued to the floor, and Louis nods, already unsure about what was coming. 

“Do you think I was right about… Sophia? Like, breaking up with her and shit.” Liam’s words bring a huge wave of surprise to Louis, who has yet to hear about this. Or maybe he just wasn’t paying attention, he thinks guiltily as he shrugs. 

“I think that only you know what’s best. And if that was best, then you shouldn’t doubt yourself.” Louis says slowly, and Liam nods, still staring at the floor. Watching his friend, Louis can tell that there’s something else eating at him, but he doesn’t want to push it. 

“Yeah. I just- how did you know you needed to break up with El? Like, nobody saw that shit coming, but I guess everyone saw all this from a mile away.” Liam’s brow is still tightly knit, and Louis feels a small trickle of panic as he tries to find words.

Louis sighs, and looks out at the front lawn of their highschool. 

“It took a long time. I knew that I didn’t feel anything for her anymore. Not when I talked to her, not when I held her hand, or kissed her. I just got sick of living in an empty moment, I guess.” Louis says, still staring outside, and he can feel Liam’s eyes on him now. 

“What happened? What made it change?” Liam’s voice is quiet, and Louis feels his stomach drop as he turns his head back to Liam, who is watching him with a blank expression. 

Louis chuckles nervously and shrugs, reaching out to nudge Liam with his elbow. “I thought we were talking about your issues, Payno, not mine. Come on.”

Louis skirts around the subject as he starts walking out the doors, and he hears Liam’s chuckle from behind him. “You’re not getting out of that.” Liam calls after him, and Louis forces a laugh. 

It’s after midnight, and Louis can’t fall asleep. Harry is sound asleep next to him, snoring softly with one arm still wrapped around Louis, but Louis feels like his whole body is wired.

He’d been antsy and anxious ever since the talk with Liam, and he couldn’t put his finger on why. 

Staring up at the glow in the dark stars, he chews on his lip pensively. He slowly slides away from Harry’s grip, and as his feet hit the cold floor, he looks at Harry, a small smile on his face. 

Harry is peaceful, angelic, hair falling around his face like some sort of ethereal painting as he sleeps.

He could watch him sleep forever, Louis thinks to himself as he walks to the window where moonlight is pouring in. 

He sits on the desk, looking out into the night, and wraps his arms around himself. He rests his head on his knees as the thoughts tumble around his head.

At this time tomorrow, he’ll be wrangling drunk teenagers, getting them to cars and cleaning up, making sure his friends are safe and secure, but tonight, he’s sitting on Harry’s desk, staring at the moon. 

Louis sits there for a while, listening to the house settle, wind rustling the window panes, but then hears the quiet creak of bedsprings and the shuffle of feet on the floor.

He closes his eyes as he feels warm arms wrap around him, and a nose nuzzle into his neck with a quiet hum.

“What’re you doing?” Harry mumbles, and Louis smiles, leaning back into Harry’s grip. “Couldn’t sleep.” he wraps a hand around Harry’s wrist as he speaks, and Harry hums again.

They stay there, neither of them saying anything, until Harry yawns into Louis’ shoulder. Louis chuckles, patting Harry’s wrist. “Go back to bed. I’ll be back.” Louis whispers, and Harry shakes his head, leaning away from Louis with a small pout.

“Can’t sleep without you.” Harry mumbles, and Louis’ smile grows, fondly looking at Harry. 

Harry’s skin is practically glowing in the pale moonlight, hair casting shadows on his face as tendrils fall away from the bun he’d fallen asleep in.

His tattoos look magical and ghostly as they contrast with his skin, and Louis reaches out, brushing his fingers over the moth on Harry’s stomach, and Harry giggles softly.

“That tickles. Bed? Please?” Harry tugs on Louis’ arm gently, and Louis shakes his head, sliding off the desk with a sigh.

“Alright, you big baby.” Louis lets Harry lead them to the bed, and as he tucks his feet back under the sheets, Harry falls onto the bed with a huff, stretching his arms out for Louis to wrap himself into.

With a hum of contentment, Harry settles his head on Louis’ chest, and Louis presses a kiss to Harry’s hair. 

Whatever nerves Louis was feeling now could wait for the morning. For now, it was just him and the curly head cuddled close next to him, and Louis was content to lay there for however long he wanted him to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!!!  
> I am so incredibly sorry for this week or two of radio silence. I've been having a lot of issues accessing Ao3 on my devices lately, and the computer I usually upload on is at my job (which is closed for quarantine). I promise, I'll be trying to update more as much as I possibly can, but for now, please enjoy this chapter. She's short but sweet, and it's a small segue into next chapter (which, if you're reading this, should hopefully be up already).  
> thank you so much for sticking around. 
> 
> TPWK.  
> ~a


	14. 'How Deep It Goes' - Heart

_ _ _ 

The music is pounding through Louis’ skull as he walks through the familiar hallways of Liam’s house, past couples making out on couches, beer pong in the den, and the smokers taking up residence in one of the back rooms.

He chews on his lip as his eyes flicker across the people, taking into account who’s all here and who shouldn’t be, and he leans on a wall, smirking as he sees Liam, dressed in a toga, knocking back what Louis is almost certain is straight whiskey. 

He jumps as he feels hands on his waist, and he turns around to see Harry standing behind him, a big, loopy smile on his face.

“Well, hey there handsome, funny finding you here.” Harry’s words are slow and slightly slurred, and Louis rolls his eyes, panicking slightly as he looks around the room.

“I didn’t think you were drinking tonight.” Louis chides quietly, and Harry snorts, shaking his head, his hair flopping around his face. 

“Don’t recall that.” Harry mumbles, not taking his eyes off of Louis as he steps closer, tugging Louis towards him. Louis trips into Harry’s chest at the sudden movement, and Harry laughs out loud, wrapping his arms around Louis’ waist.

“Clumsy babe.” Harry whispers, and for a moment, Louis forgets where they are, staring at Harry’s bright eyes and flushed cheeks. 

Harry looks beautiful tonight. He’s wearing a white, deep cut pirate top, complete with frills and ruffles, high waisted black pants, and knee high boots with just enough of a heel to make Harry even taller than he already is.

His hair is haphazardly tied with a golden ribbon that Louis had stolen from one of the girls, and he has a single cross earring clipped to his ear.

He looks beautiful, and mythical, and Louis can hardly resist him. 

Harry’s face is drawing closer to Louis’, and Louis is about to wrap his arms around Harry’s neck and give in to the lips that have been singing to him all night, when he hears his name called.

Louis snaps out of it then, jerking himself out of Harry’s arms as he whips around, running a hand through his hair as he looks around anxiously.

“Fuck, Harry, you can’t just do that shit here. You should know better, you’ve got to act normal.” Louis’ voice is slightly snappier than he intends, and he hears a soft scoff from Harry. 

“Don’t worry. Nobody saw you, Louis.” Harry’s voice is cold and sullen behind him, and Louis feels his stomach sink.

He turns to look at Harry, who is now standing, staring at him with an expression that Louis can’t quite make heads or tails of.

As Louis’ mouth opens to explain, Harry shakes his head and brushes past him, and Louis helplessly watches him make his way through the crowd of people, clapping a hand on Liam’s shoulder as he passes.

Louis hears his name again, and he sighs. He closes his eyes for a minute, trying to force the look of hurt that was on Harry’s face out of his mind. He walks into the room to hear Liam speaking loudly about state titles, and he smirks as he gets closer.

“There he is, ladies and gentlemen. The king... has arrived.” Liam bows dramatically as he notices Louis from where he’s stood on an ottoman, and Louis snorts.

“King of what, exactly? Must have missed my crowning ceremony.” Louis leans on the couch, nodding to a few people he recognized, and Liam scoffs, hopping off his perch and instantly keeling forward.

Louis shoots out an arm to grab Liam before he falls to the floor, the group of people around them laughing. Liam grins up at him, loosely holding onto Louis’ arms, and Louis frowns as he looks at Liam’s eyes that are red and dilated.

“Liam, did you do any drugs tonight?” Louis pulls Liam close as he mutters the question in Liam’s ear, and Liam laughs loudly, wrapping his arms around Louis tightly.

“Happy fucking Halloween, Lewis.” Liam growls, and Louis groans, gently pushing him away.

“Damn it, Liam, what did you take? You know that shit’s not safe.” Louis looks Liam up and down as Liam collapses onto the couch, eyes rolling back into his head as he laughs.

“Come on, Louis, let your guard down a little, you’ve earned it.” Liam waves his hand in Louis’ direction as a girl Louis doesn’t know climbs into Liam’s lap, and Louis sighs heavily.

“I’m gonna make sure the rest of your house isn’t being torn apart. I’ll check on you later.” Louis’ words are met with silence as the girl on Liam’s lap mashes her face against Liam’s, and Louis scoffs lightly and steps over the people on his way to the doorway. 

He picks up a few cups and bottles on his way through the house, fruitlessly trying to keep the eventual cleanup to a minimum, and he sighs as he sees a condom wrapper lying on the ground. Shaking his head, he kicks it to the side and continues into the kitchen. 

He keeps his eyes forward, ignoring the people sitting on counters and leaning on the walls, and as he deposits the trash in the sink he hears a familiar voice. 

His eyes fly up, and he freezes as Harry’s laugh echoes across the room over the loud music.

Trying to force himself to be casual, he turns around, scanning for Harry’s figure until he finds it, leaning on a wall, standing very close to a girl in a short leather skirt and angel wings. 

He feels his jaw clenching as he sees her step towards Harry, tangling her fingers in the ruffles on Harry’s shirt, and his fists ball tightly as Harry places a hand on her waist, smirking his stupid flirty smirk down at her. 

Louis feels his eyes well as he watches them, and he feels like he’s going to be sick as the girl reaches her hand up to twirl a finger around one of Harry’s curls, tugging his face closer to her.

Louis spins around, pushing his way out of the room as the tears fall. 

Choking back a sob, he frantically looks around for an empty room, and as he sees a couple leave the bathroom, he quickly makes his way to it, beating out a girl with smeared makeup and a crooked wig.

Slamming the door behind him, he collapses against it, finally letting the tears fall as he stares up at the bathroom ceiling. 

He didn’t know what he really expected. 

All he knows is that he hadn’t expected this. Not from Harry. 

Louis pulls his legs up against his chest and wraps his arms around them, leaning his forehead on his jeans.

He hadn’t worn a very flashy costume, choosing to wear dark jeans (that were actually Harry’s) and a white t-shirt, with a black leather vest (that he’d borrowed from Zayn’s closet once upon a time and still hadn’t returned). 

His lack of enthusiasm for Halloween had irritated Harry to no end this afternoon, which had led to Louis to draw a black star around one of his eyes. That alone seemed to satisfy Harry, who had rewarded him with kisses in the backseat of Harry’s car. 

That star was tear streaked and smudgy now, and as Louis sits on the bathroom floor, party banging on behind him, he closes his eyes, sniffling.

“I fucking hate him.” he whispers to himself, voice cracking. 

Louis startles as there’s suddenly a knock on the door, knuckles rapping against the wood above his head. “Hold on, I’ll be out in a minute.” Louis yells, swiping at his eyes carefully. 

“Louis, it’s me. Can you open the door? Please?” Zayn’s voice comes from behind the door, and Louis slowly reaches a hand up, twisting the knob. He scoots away from the door as Zayn slips in, closing the door behind him.

“Hey, pal. Saw you come in here and figured you might need me.” Zayn chuckles softly, and Louis stares at the holes on his knees. 

They sit quietly for a moment before Zayn slides closer to Louis, pressing their sides together. Zayn grabs Louis’ hand from where it’s tightly gripped into a ball, and Louis feels the tears come to his eyes again.

“Lou.” Zayn’s voice is soft, and a sob breaks from Louis’ chest as he buries his face in Zayn’s chest. 

“I hate him, Zayn. I hate what he does, I hate that we can’t be normal, I hate that everything I try to make work never does, I hate all of this.” Louis cries into Zayn’s jean jacket, and he feels Zayn’s arms tighten around him. 

“What happened, Louis? Did he do something?” Zayn’s voice is calm and low, and Louis shakes his head.

“I started it. ‘S my fault.” he leans away as he speaks, wiping the tears off of his cheeks with a sniff.

“I told him to, like. Be normal. I told him that he should know better than to, you know. Kiss me here.” Louis mumbles, and Zayn hums.

“Is that all?” Zayn asks, and Louis shakes his head, leaning back against the door. 

“No. He got mad at me, and walked away, and then I saw him in the kitchen getting all cozy with some girl in a leather skirt.” Louis feels the tears rise up again as he speaks, and Zayn sighs.

“Ah. Okay.” Zayn is quiet after his short answer, and Louis looks at him out of the corner of his eye. “What?” Louis mutters, and Zayn shrugs.

“You don’t hate him.” Zayn says simply, and turns his head to meet Louis’ eyes. 

“You couldn’t hate him if you tried. Life’s not just going to hand you this shit on a silver platter, Lou, and especially not for people like us. It’s not going to be sunshine and happiness forever.

It’s like your soccer stuff. You have to fight for what you want, and you already know that it’s always going to be him.

You’re going to get out of this town soon, and by the time you make it big, you’ll never have to worry again.” Zayn nudges Louis’ shoulder, and Louis chuckles softly, wiping at his eyes again.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk that much in your life.” Louis teases, and Zayn snorts.

“Don’t really know where that came from, actually. Kind of weird.” Zayn chuckles, and Louis thinks back on what Zayn said, one thing particularly sticking with him. 

“Hey, Zayn?” Louis asks quietly, and Zayn hums in response. Louis shifts his weight, taking a deep breath in.

“What did you mean? About the whole… ‘people like us’, thing?” Louis watches Zayn’s face as he speaks, and Zayn’s eyes flick over to meet Louis’ gaze.

With a small smile, Zayn shrugs. 

“The odds of one gay man in this town are already low, let alone two, so I figured that I’d make the odds even smaller with an uneven three.”

Zayn’s words hit Louis like a train, and he stares at Zayn. Zayn’s face falls slightly, and a worried furrow appears in his brow. 

“Louis?”” Zayn’s voice is hesitant, and Louis blinks. They stare at each other silently for another minute, until Louis grabs Zayn by his shoulders and pulls him into his grip, burying his face in Zayn’s neck.

“Why wouldn’t you tell me sooner?” Louis asks, face pressed against Zayn’s jacket, and Zayn shrugs again. “Just never thought it would come up. Didn’t want to make a big deal of it.” 

Louis leans away, keeping his hands on Zayn’s arm as he looks at his best friend, and he gives Zayn a smirk.

“Maybe we should start a club.” Louis snickers at the thought, and Zayn snorts. “There’s a reason I was antisocial in highschool. Clubs are just-” 

Louis waves Zayn’s words off as he interrupts him. “I know, they’re just gimmicks to trick the future generations into continuing classism and social hierarchies, I know. I’ve heard it before.” Louis rolls his eyes, and Zayn grins at him, standing up. 

“Come on, you communist. Let’s enjoy whatever is left of this shitshow before the house implodes on itself.” Zayn reaches a hand out for Louis to take, and Louis takes it, pulling himself to his feet. 

As they exit the bathroom, Zayn’s arm wrapped around Louis’ shoulder, Louis smiles to himself. This would all work itself out. It always has before, and it’ll do it again. 

  
  


The clock says almost 4am now, and Louis is sending the last few stragglers out of the house, standing at the front door, shivering as the cold breeze blows through the doorway.

“Bye Louis, tell Liam we’ll see him around!” a girl’s voice calls through the night, and Louis waves, chuckling softly to himself.

He closes the door and sighs, turning around to take a look at the damage. He can see cups all over the floor, a few puddles from spilled drinks, and crooked pictures on the walls.

Louis sighs again, and shoves his hands in his pockets, walking down the hallway into the living room. 

Zayn is asleep on the couch, with Liam sprawled in his lap, and Louis smiles to himself as he sees Zayn’s hand, gently tangled in Liam’s hair as it rests on his head.

Louis picks up a few bottles from the floor as he passes through, and kicks some cups into a pile in the corner by the wall. 

Bottles clinking in his arms as he walks, he stifles a yawn as he sets them on the kitchen table, where a plethora of other bottles have been left. He knows that they’re going to have to clean the house tomorrow, but Louis doesn’t want to worry about that now. 

What he wants to do is go to sleep. He wants to go to sleep, and he wants Harry to be next to him.

Louis had tried to keep Harry out of his head all night, but had sent Zayn to check on him at least five times through the course of the night. Each time, Zayn had reported back, saying that he was with someone else, or a new group, but would reassure Louis by saying that there was ‘no funny business’ happening. 

Louis didn’t know what that meant exactly, but he had contented himself with those answers, and took some shots with people he didn’t know, and had smoked a blunt with Zayn and a few of his art buddies.

Now, Louis is wandering through the house, shutting off lights, adjusting pictures and furniture as he came across it, and closing doors and windows. 

Louis stands at one of the tall glass doors in the den, and stares outside. Liam lives in one of the nicer houses in the neighborhood, living directly on a lake with a pier that the boys would dive off of during the summer. 

The path gets lit with torches so they can night swim, and Louis fondly remembers last summer, when they’d strip to their underwear and dive in immediately after practice, much to the chagrin of Mrs. Payne, who’d bring them out towels so they wouldn’t get her floors all wet. 

As Louis stares outside at the cloudy night sky, he can see a figure standing on the pier, and he sighs, shaking his head as he pulls the door open.

Making his way down the path in the near dark, Louis calls out as he walks. “Hey, man, the party’s over, everyone’s headed out. Did you get a ride here?”

Louis’ feet hit the wood of the pier as he approaches, and he’s finally able to see who’s standing in front of him as the cloud cover breaks, and the cold moonlight washes over them.

Harry turns around, his thumbs hooked in his pockets as he gives Louis a small smile. “No, I drove.” Harry’s voice is quiet, and Louis stares at him. 

If Louis thought that Harry looked magical before, this had to be straight out of a movie dream. 

Harry is a celestial being.

Harry is unbelievable.

Harry is a character on the front of one of those porny romance books that girls like to read, standing in front of him in that ruffled white shirt and bare feet, and Louis is so swept up in him. 

Louis’ mouth bops open and shut like a fish, and Harry chuckles softly. “I was just heading out. Needed to take a minute to clear my head, safety first and all that.” Harry shrugs, and Louis nods, still finding the words hard to find.

He takes a step closer to Harry, who doesn’t move, and who just watches Louis silently.

“I want to say I’m sorry.” Louis says quietly, and Harry nods slowly, looking out over the lake now, pursing his lips. 

“I didn’t know what you wanted from me, Louis. I get it, okay? I get that we can’t be ourselves here, or do what normal people who love each other do here, but I can’t not be who I am, at least to a point.” Harry doesn’t look at Louis as he speaks, voice low, and Louis stares at the wood underneath his feet. He hears Harry sigh softly as he continues. 

“I don’t know what you think is normal, but I think normal is stupid. I think being normal is conformist bullshit, and I think that this town’s version of normal is the biggest load of bullshit I’ve heard yet.

But kissing me in a dark hallway isn’t going to make you less normal to them, especially not when they won’t even see it.” Harry’s voice has an angry edge now, and Louis bites his lip hard. 

“I’m not angry at you. I’m angry at them. I’m angry at every fucking single one of them, and I hate what they are and stand for, and I’m angry that nothing will ever be able to change their minds or their views. I’m angry that we have to hide.

You shouldn’t be hidden. You’re brighter than the sun in the sky, and you would burn them to ashes if they saw who you really are.” 

Louis looks up at Harry then, and meets Harry’s eyes that are watching him closely, a thin lipped smile on his face. Louis laughs softly, and shakes his head, stepping closer to Harry.

“A moonman and the sun. What an unlikely pair we are.” Louis’ voice is a whisper, and Harry chuckles, taking a step towards Louis. “I’d die every night to let you shine, Lou.” Harry slips his hands into Louis’ as he murmurs the words, and Louis curls his fingers around Harry’s.

As Harry’s lips press against his, Louis knows that Zayn was right. No matter what happened, they would always find their way back to each other. 

When they walked back up to the house, hands still clasped tightly between them, Louis watched their shadows on the ground. He smiled as he saw them, distorted on dying grass, and when they closed and locked the door behind them, Harry had wrapped his arms around Louis, pressing kisses to the top of his head. 

“I’m sorry for the Angela thing. I, um. Don’t really remember what I was thinking. I was mad.” Harry had mumbled against Louis’ hair, and Louis sighed, leaning back against Harry’s chest.

“I know.” is all Louis had said, and he had led Harry through the house to the guest bedroom.

They had stripped off their costumes, and Harry had taken a wet washcloth to the barely-there star on Louis’ eye. 

When it was as gone as it was going to be, they had gotten into bed, Harry immediately curling around Louis like he did every night.

Louis had wrapped his arms around Harry, inhaling the lavender and vanilla scent that was so familiar, and had fallen asleep to the sound of birds that had begun to chirp outside. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
> PSA: if, for some reason, another update doesn't come on here very shortly (and I'm praying it will), I am also on Wattpad under the same name (@littleharrylover) and title of the fic! I'm working with Ao3 to get these issues resolved, but for now, I will be more routinely updating there.  
> all the love, my friends. 
> 
> TPWK.  
> ~a


	15. 'Another Brick In The Wall, Pt. 2' - Pink Floyd

_ _ _ 

Louis’ teeth are chattering as he feels the cold, mid November wind blow at the hair on the nape of his neck, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket.

He stands in place on the soccer field, staring across it at the rival team as a soft rain begins to fall, and he groans softly to himself. 

“Rain is just what we need, eh Tommo?” Louis turns to see Ed standing next to him, red hair covered in a thick blue beanie, and Louis chuckles softly, looking back out at the field. 

“We’ve had worse.” Louis shrugs as he speaks, and Ed laughs. “Should have expected that from you. Come on, cap, Coach sent me for you.” Louis feels a rock in his gut as he hears Ed’s words, and he knows why his coach wants to see him. 

Following Ed back to the sideline, he looks up over the crowd that’s been steadily gathering for the last few minutes.

He smiles as he sees his mother and sisters, and sighs in relief at no sign of Mark. He raises a hand in a quick greeting, and grins as the girls yell out his name, waving their hands. 

Louis hasn’t seen any sign of his friends, or Harry, and desperately hopes that they get here soon. He knows they’ll be here, because they don’t miss a game, especially now that Liam’s football season is all but over.

He tucks his hands deeper in his pockets as they step into the sideline dugout, and he looks up at his team, giving them a quick smile as he walks past. 

Louis stops with a jolt as he bumps into someone, and he blinks as Oli looks at him up and down, a blank expression on his face.

“Louis.” Oli greets him casually, stepping out of the way, and Louis nods. “Oli.” Louis steps past him, staring straight ahead as he walks, and purses his lips as he thinks about Oli. 

They hadn’t spoken outside of practice in months, or in the occasional class they’d have together. He’d see Oli and Eleanor together fairly often, and word around the school was that they had been seen at the movies a few times over the last few weeks.

Louis didn’t mind, because it took people’s eyes off of him for the most part. He and Eleanor were still friends, but they just didn’t talk about things the way they used to. She’d still come and support him, and would still sit next to him at the lunch table, but that was about it. 

“There you are, Louis. Come here.” his coach’s words bring him back to focus, and he inhales deeply before looking up at his coach. 

He knew that the scouts were going to be at this game.

They’d made it through the semifinals, and were playing the second game of their finals bracket.

If they win this game, there’s only one more to place them at state, and if they win at state, that will be the fourth consecutive title that Louis has helped bring the team to. 

They’d swept the opposing teams with each game, but Louis is starting to feel like their clock of luck is quickly ticking away. 

He’s done everything right, and has led his team like he was supposed to, and has put in the time and effort, and he _deserves_ this. But no matter how much he’s tried, he just can’t shake the feeling that everything was about to come apart. 

As the referee blows the whistle for the captains and coaches to meet on the line, Louis looks out over the crowd again. They walk across the field, and he can hear the cheers from his family, and he finally spots Zayn, Liam, and Eleanor, wearing ponchos and holding umbrellas as they stand together next to Louis’ family.

But there’s still no sign of Harry, and Louis swallows away the lump in his throat as he shakes hands with the opposing captains and coaches. 

They head back to their dugouts, the rain picking up now, and Louis slips his cold hands back in his pockets as he tries to keep his thoughts straight.

His coach points out the scouts as they walk, and Louis can feel his insides start doing somersaults as he lines up with the rest of his team. 

He stares straight ahead as the national anthem begins to play, and tries not to look at the space in the bleachers where Harry should be. 

Louis is soaked to the skin as he jogs off of the field when the halftime buzzer blares, and he runs a hand through his hair, shivering when droplets run down his neck.

So far, they’re ahead, and Louis is frustrated. The rain makes people nervous, and when people are nervous they forget how to play. 

He knows he should have a team pep talk, but he can’t feel it today. He falls into one of the chairs, wrapping a towel around himself as one of the boys tosses it to him, and he sighs.

Leaning his head back against the dugout wall, he closes his eyes and tries to even out his breathing. 

He had kept his eyes out for Harry the entire game so far. He would look up at the stands, trying to catch a glimpse of him in between the sea of ponchos and umbrellas, but he saw nothing. Louis didn’t want to think about it now, or let it affect his gameplay, but the feeling of disappointment didn’t lessen. 

He had told Harry that the scouts were coming to this game, and Harry had promised him that he would be there. 

He opens his eyes up to look back out at the people in the stands, and smiles to himself. They were lucky that they had people who were so dedicated to seeing them.

It doesn’t hurt that they’ve got a pretty outstanding record, but Louis knows that the people in the town would support them even if they didn’t.

It’s one of the only things he’ll miss when he leaves. 

Louis leans forward to scan the crowd again, and can see that his sisters now have a sign. He smirks as he reads the ‘WE LOVE OUR #28’ written in big, red letters, and as he wonders where they could have gotten it, out of the corner of his eye he sees a familiar coat standing by the sideline fence surrounding the field. 

His eyes focus, and he finds himself jumping to his feet as he sees Harry leaning on the fence, arms propping his head up, and he drops the towel in his chair as he dashes out of the dugout and across the field.

The smile on his face grows as Harry notices him, and as he approaches, he can see that Harry is holding another sign in his hands. 

“Well, look who decided to show?” Louis says over the noise, and Harry smiles at him apologetically, tucking his wet hair behind his ear.

“I’m really sorry, Lou. I was conned into closing up the shop, and when I realized what time it was I came straight over. I promise, I wouldn’t forget.” Harry reaches a hand out towards Louis, but then stops himself, eyes looking over Louis’ head at the team still in the dugout. 

Louis shakes his head, the smile still on his face, and he takes Harry in. Harry is wearing his usual long coat, with a print, warm looking turtleneck sweater underneath, and Louis wants to curl up in a ball with it. 

“Did you see my sign? I brought the girls a sign.” Harry chuckles sheepishly, and Louis feels his heart swell. “I did see it. I felt very loved.” Louis winks as he speaks, and he can see Harry’s cheeks flush. “Good. That was the plan.” Harry shrugs, and Louis gestures to the sign in Harry’s hand.

“What about the other one? What’s that one say?” he asks, and Harry grins, lifting the sign for Louis to see. 

Louis reads the words ‘O Captain, My Captain’, written in Harry’s scrawl in thick black letters. 

Louis wants to kiss him. 

Louis wants to kiss him, and he almost does before he hears the 5 minute warning buzzer scream above their heads.   
“Don’t you go anywhere.” Louis warns, pointing at Harry as he backs away, and Harry’s grin grows. “Yes, Captain.”, Harry calls as he hangs the sign over the fence. 

The smile on Louis’ face doesn’t fade as he runs back to the dugout, and as play resumes he can hear Harry’s voice, piercing through the sounds of the crowd.

They beat the other team with time to spare. Louis had sent them into their winning points, and his team had gathered around him, celebrating and yelling, and Louis could hear his family and friends’ voices over the sounds of the crowd, and Harry’s even more clearly as he grinned and waved. 

As they line up to shake hands at the end of the game, Louis glances to where the scouts are sitting, and he can see them talking to one another, writing things down on their notepads.

He can feel his stomach squeeze as he watches them stand, and exit their seats, stopping to talk to some of the officials as they leave. 

Louis jumps as he feels a hand on his shoulder, and he twists around to see Oli standing next to him, a small smile on his face.

“You really killed it tonight, Louis. You don’t have anything to worry about with them.” Oli gestures to where the scouts are, and Louis chuckles and shakes his head. “I’m trying to not worry.” he says, glancing back at Oli. 

“I’m telling you. They’d be stupid to not see how good you are.” Oli shrugs as he speaks, and Louis turns to face him fully, a small suspicion rising in his mind. 

“Why are you saying all this, Oli?” Louis asks warily, and Oli looks down at his feet with a quiet laugh. “Because I feel like a piece of shit.” 

Louis blinks, and Oli starts speaking again, still staring at the ground.

“When all that shit happened before, I didn’t think about what I was doing or saying. You know better than anyone what I’m like. It was stupid of me to do, and it wasn’t fair.” Oli meets Louis’ eyes, and Louis stares at him, water from his still damp hair dripping down into his face.

Oli sighs, and continues. “I’m sorry. For being a dick, and for ignoring you, for everything.” 

Louis nods slowly, and they stand there for a moment as some of their teammates run by, cheering and yelling. When they pass, Louis sighs, and looks at Oli, who is back to staring at his cleats.

“I appreciate your apology. I do. But I’m really not the one you need to apologize to.” Oli looks up at him, brow raised, and Louis can see him glance over Louis’ shoulder to where he’s sure Harry is still standing with Zayn and the others.

“I’m not going to take an apology when I’m not the one who got humiliated in front of the entire school.” 

Louis balls his fist as he remembers the day, and Oli scoffs softly and turns his eyes back to Louis. “I should have known that you’d stick up for him. Seriously man, what is it about him? I’ve known you since we were in diapers, and suddenly this prick comes around and you’d just leave me in the dirt?”

Oli scuffs at the ground with his cleat as his bitter words come across, and Louis shoves a hand through his hair in exasperation. 

“Oli, he’s a fucking human too. He’s honest, and he’s kind, more kind than anyone I’ve ever met. He actually cares about things instead of just pretending to care. If you’d take ten minutes to get to know him, maybe you’d see that too.” Louis’ words are sharp, and Oli stares at him, a blank expression on his face.

Louis knows that Oli can read him like a book, and that Oli knows that he wears his heart on his sleeve.

Louis tries to match his expression to Oli’s, but Oli is already shaking his head and looking away, a mocking laugh on his lips. 

“If you have something to confess, Louis, don’t be a pansy and just fucking do it.” Oli’s voice is low and soft, and Louis feels like he just was punched in the stomach. 

Louis shakes his head, scoffing lightly. “Why would you say that? Can I not give a shit about someone without wanting to fuck them, or is that too foreign a topic for you?” Louis says bitterly, and Oli looks back at him, eyes angry as his brow furrows. 

“The fuck does that mean?” Oli asks, taking a small step closer, and Louis crosses his arms in front of him. “I’m not going to do this with you, Oli. Not here, not now. Not ever.” Louis doesn’t break eye contact as Oli stares at him, and Oli shakes his head, sneering as he looks Louis up and down.

“I hope this is all worth it for you, Louis. I really do.” Oli turns away as he speaks, and Louis watches him walk the length of the field until he gets to the dugout, and Louis watches as he disappears behind the wall.

Louis closes his eyes, and lets his body drop to the ground, lying down with his back against the cold, wet grass as the rain, which is now a misty drizzle, washes over his face. 

“You don’t look very comfortable.” Liam’s voice comes as a welcome surprise to Louis’ ears, and Louis opens one eye to see his friend sitting down next to him, a poncho pulled over his shoulders.

Louis sighs, closing his eyes again and folding his hands over his face. 

“I’m an idiot.” Louis mumbles, and Liam chuckles. “Yeah, I know. Why are you just figuring this out?” Liam asks, and Louis chews on his lip, hesitating.

“Because I’m gay.” he suddenly blurts out, and he hears Liam inhale sharply. They’re both silent for a few moments, until Louis peers at Liam through a crack in his fingers. 

“Oh.” is all Liam says in response.

“Yeah.” Louis’ voice is soft, and he waits for Liam to say something.

It feels like he waits for an eternity before Liam speaks again.

“Are you and Harry…? Is that why you’re always…” Liam trails off, and Louis sighs, sitting up to prop his arms up on his legs. He nods slowly, and Liam lets out a long sigh. 

“When?” Liam asks, voice tight, and Louis swallows, picking at his uniform shorts as he thinks. “Since September.” he whispers, and Liam laughs incredulously. 

“Jesus Christ, Louis. And you didn’t tell me for any specific reason, or was it just a game of ‘Keep Liam In The Dark’?” Louis winces as he hears Liam’s hurt tone, and he looks at his friend, who is sitting in the grass, staring at Louis with wide, brown eyes. 

“Liam, I swear, I was going to tell you. Please don’t be mad. I really was. It’s not like there’s an ideal time to come out to somebody, you know.” Louis shrugs helplessly, and Liam sighs. 

They sit, staring at each other without saying anything, and Liam sighs again. “I’m not mad at you. You always think I’m going to be mad at you when I’m not.” Liam chuckles, and Louis smiles as a sense of relief floods over him. 

Liam reaches out to pat Louis’ knee, and Louis grabs his hand and squeezes it tightly. “Thanks for not being weird. And like… please don’t talk about it. Or say anything.” Louis’ request is one that he so wishes he didn’t have to ask for, but Liam nods, squeezing Louis’ hand back.

”Of course not. I’m going to assume that Zayn knows.” Liam rolls his eyes as he speaks, but Louis can see the small, fond smile on Liam’s lips.

Louis chuckles softly, and shrugs. “I told him the day Oli said all that shit.” Louis doesn’t like remembering that day, but Liam nods in understanding. 

After a moment, Liam stands with a groan. “I swear, I’m an 80 year old man. Come on, Lewis, go get cleaned up. We’re going for pizza, and I’m telling you right now that I will be ordering a full one for myself.” Liam reaches a hand down for Louis, who grabs it with a grin as Liam pulls him to his feet. 

Louis is about to turn away when Liam tugs him towards him, and wraps him in a strong, tight hug.

“I’m proud of you, Lou. I’m happy you’re happy. You deserve that.” Liam whispers in Louis’ ear, and Louis feels tears burn at his eyes at Liam’s words. 

Liam lets him out of the hug with a soft punch to his arm. “Now get going, before we leave without you.” Liam shoos him away, and Louis rolls his eyes with a smirk. “You’re still an ass.” Louis calls over his shoulder as he begins to jog away, and he can hear Liam’s loud laugh behind him.

When he meets up with them after he cleans up, Harry is the first to greet him, pulling him into a tight hug and pressing his lips to Louis’ ear.

“Eleanor knows. I’m sorry.” Harry’s slightly panicked whisper sets Louis’ hair on end, and Louis chuckles, rubbing Harry’s back reassuringly.

"It’s okay. I was going to tell her anyway.” Louis whispers back, and Harry sighs in relief. “I told Liam.” Louis continues, still whispering and Harry chuckles softly, leaning away.

“I had a feeling. He kept looking at me funny after you left.” Harry smirks, and Louis laughs, his head tossing back as he grins up at the night sky. 

Harry grabs his hand, and Louis looks down at it, a warmth in his belly as he sees their twined fingers.

“Let’s go eat some shitty pizza and kiss in front of our friends.” Harry murmurs, rubbing Louis’ thumb with his, and Louis looks at Harry, who is smiling down at him, and after all this time, Louis still can’t think of anything more beautiful than Harry.

“Let’s go, moonman.” Louis squeezes Harry’s hand as they walk, and as they all walk to Harry’s car, his friend’s voices echoing in the empty night air, Louis can’t help feeling like this is how it was always meant to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello, it's me again!  
> I'm trying to update as much as I can while I still have the site *slightly* functioning, so here's another chapter! I'm sorry if she's a little messy, I accidentally deleted half of it and had to rewrite from memory. REMINDER that this work is also on Wattpad under the same name and author! 
> 
> TPWK. I love you all.  
> ~a


	16. 'Yesterday and Today' - Yes

_ _ _ 

“Louis, can you please stop fidgeting? I can’t fix these if you don’t stand still.” Louis huffs as his mother tugs on his khaki dress pants, and stares at the Macy’s parade that is being broadcast on the television behind them.

“I don’t understand why you’re just now telling me that these need to get fixed. I have a million things I need to do before the family comes.” Jay looks up at Louis from where she’s pinning the hems, and Louis groans softly.

“I didn’t tell you, you told me. Why can’t I just wear my jeans, Gram won’t care.” Louis pleads, and Jay laughs, standing as she tucks the last pin into the fabric.

“She might not, but I do. Hurry up and change out of those, I need you to run an errand for me.” Jay walks out of the living room, and Louis scowls as he heads up the stairs. 

It isn’t even noon, and he’s already ready for the day to be over. He hates Thanksgiving normally, but today is worse than usual.

Harry and his mother have been out of town for the last three days picking up his sister from school, and they’d just gotten back this morning. 

Harry had called him as soon as his car had pulled into the driveway, or so he’d said, and Louis had to force himself to stay in his own house instead of hightailing it across the street. He knew that his mother wouldn’t let him out until the house had been cleaned from top to bottom, and she’d woken him up early to make sure of that. 

Tugging on a pair of sweatpants after carefully taking off his khakis, he raps on Lottie and Felicite’s door as he walks down the hallway, then pushes it open. He grimaces as he’s met with the smell of perfume and hairspray, and Lottie turns from where she’s carefully curling Felicite’s hair into a twist.

“Can I help you? We’re a little busy here.” Lottie looks him up and down, and raises an eyebrow. “Mom’s letting you wear those today?” Lottie asks, and Louis rolls his eyes. 

“Of course she isn’t. Remind me not to light any flames around here.” He looks around at the clouds of hairspray, and Felicite giggles. 

“Isn’t it a little early for all this?” Louis leans on the door jamb, and Lottie shrugs. “We have a lot to do.” 

Louis smiles as he watches his sisters get back to the tasks at hand, and he steps out of the doorway and closes the door behind them. He can hear the twins downstairs with their mother, and he can smell the food that they’ve been working on all morning and last night. 

Draping the khakis over the back of a kitchen chair, he grabs a dinner roll from the basket resting on the counter. “Louis, stop, those are for dinner!” Daisy screeches as she hits him with a towel, and Louis laughs as he fends off his tiny sister.

“Sorry, your majesty, but your people are starving.” Louis bites into the roll as he hops onto one of the kitchen stools, and Jay clicks her tongue at him as she turns away from the stovetop. 

“Here, Louis. I need you to deliver this across the street for me. Anne and Harry went and got Gemma from school this weekend, so I doubt they had a chance to cook much.”

Louis blinks in surprise as he watches his mother, who is now wrapping dishes in aluminum foil, and she looks up at him, an eyebrow raised.

“Do you have a problem with that? I can send the girls, I’m sure they’d love-” 

“No! I mean, no. I’ll go.” Louis blurts, wincing at how obvious his eagerness came across, and Jay chuckles as she slides the dishes into a canvas bag.

“Alright then. Wait around a bit, these potatoes need a few more minutes. I’ll do your pants while I have time.” Jay wipes her hands on a towel as she speaks, and Louis chews on his roll absently, nodding at her.

“Keep an eye on him, girls.” Jay winks as she walks out of the room, and Phoebe climbs up onto the stool next to him. 

“I like Harry. He brings us cookies sometimes.” Phoebe says nonchalantly as she takes a roll for herself, and Louis stares at his sister. 

“Does he?” Louis’ voice is soft, and Phoebe nods. “He makes good cookies. He made peanut butter ones, and chocolate ones. He makes special ones for Mommy and Lottie sometimes.” 

Daisy grabs Louis’ arm then, drawing his attention to her as his head begins to spin. “Mommy says they’re baked with love, and that’s why they’re so good.” Daisy pipes up, and Louis feels like his heart is about to explode.

“Really.” he whispers, basically to himself, and both twins nod, and then abruptly change the subject. 

Harry’s been baking his family cookies. 

Harry’s been talking to his sisters.

Harry’s been doing all this, and Louis hasn’t had any clue.

Louis is brought back from his musing as he hears his mother call his name, and he makes his way into the living room, where Jay is sitting at her sewing machine, finishing off a stitch as she peers at the thread through her glasses. “Try these on for me, baby.” Jay hands him the pants as she speaks, and Louis stares at them for a second. 

“How long has Harry been bringing you cookies?” the question is out of his mouth before he can stop it, and Jay looks at him in surprise.

“Gosh, I don’t really know.” she says, leaning against the back of her chair as she looks at him thoughtfully.

“Since September, at least. Did you really just find out? How did you think the cookie jar kept itself full?” Jay chuckles, standing up, and pats a stunned silent Louis on the cheek as she passes. 

“Try those on, and then run that stuff over before your grandparents come.” she speaks over her shoulder as she walks out of the room, and Louis stays put for a moment, processing what he just heard. 

Harry’s been baking cookies for his family since September. 

Louis feels a smile break across his face, and he spins around to take the stairs two at a time. Pulling his t-shirt off over his head, he grabs the blue dress shirt that his mother insisted he wear today and tugs it on over his arms, following suit with his khaki pants that, he has to admit, do look really nice on him. 

Tucking the shirt into his pants, he makes his way into the bathroom, and takes in his reflection as he flicks the light on.

He laughs at himself as he runs a hand through his messy hair, and sighs, staring at his reflection that is staring right back. 

The boy standing in front of him is a refined, grown up version of Louis that Louis isn’t used to seeing, but the longer he looks, the more he doesn’t mind it. He adjusts his collar as he looks at himself, and smiles at himself before flicking the light off. 

When Louis grabs the bag off of the kitchen counter, Jay gives him a brief, odd look, but hands him a pie dish without saying a word. Louis kisses her on the cheek, and winks at his sisters as he walks out of the kitchen, slipping his ratty sneakers on.

“Be back soon.” he calls out as he closes the door behind him, and he looks to where Harry’s car is finally back in its place in the driveway. 

Louis’ mouth pulls up into a smile as he walks across the street and rings the doorbell, hoping and praying for Harry to answer the door.

When the door opens, it’s not Harry standing there, but the girl from the pictures, whose brown hair is pulled up into a brightly coloured scrunchie as she looks at Louis with a smile. 

“Um, hi. I’m just- This is for- um.” Louis stammers, and the girl laughs, opening the door wider.

“You must be Louis. I’m Gemma. It’s nice to finally meet you, I’ve heard all about you.” she takes the pie from Louis as she speaks, and Louis blinks. 

“H, it’s for you!” Gemma yells into the house, and she waves Louis inside, closing the door behind them as Louis steps over the threshold.

“Harry will be down in a minute. Come say hi to Anne, she’d love to see you.” Gemma grabs his free hand as she heads down the hallway, and Louis isn’t exactly sure what’s happening. 

He can hear music coming from another room, and as Gemma pulls him into the kitchen, he can see Anne standing at the stove in a similar fashion to how Jay was at his own house.

Anne looks up at them with a big smile.

“Louis! It’s so good to see you! How is your mother?” she steps out towards him as she speaks, and Louis smiles at her, holding the bag out. “She sent me bearing gifts.” he hands her the bag, and Anne tuts as she takes it from him. 

“Your mother is too sweet. She gave us pies a few weeks ago, I think she’s trying to fatten us up.” Anne winks at Louis, and Gemma laughs. “If you don’t want it, I’ll eat it. College is a scary place.” Gemma grins at Louis as she speaks, and Louis smiles back at her. 

Gemma is like a louder, female version of Harry, and Louis is already finding himself infatuated with her.

He watches Gemma and Anne banter with each other before hearing loud footsteps on the stairs, and he turns as he hears Harry’s voice from around the corner. 

“Gem? Who’s here? Where are-” Harry’s voice cuts off abruptly, and Louis grins as he sees Harry’s eyes widen for a brief moment as he stares at Louis.

“Hey, Harold. Just catching up with your mom, why have you never told me that you have such a pretty sister?” Louis teases, and Gemma lets out a loud laugh as she sits in one of the kitchen chairs. 

“Louis’ mother so graciously brought us food, so a Happy Thanksgiving it shall be.” Gemma takes a bite out of a muffin that was placed on a plate on the table, and Harry nods, still not taking his eyes off of Louis.

Louis stares at him right back, smiling as he takes in Harry’s faded, flared jeans and bright yellow cardigan, and Anne nudges him, chuckling to herself. 

“I have something for you to bring back to your mother, but not yet. You boys go and do something for a bit.” Anne shoos Louis towards the doorway, and Gemma wags her finger at them.

“Be good, kids.” Gemma winks, and Louis feels his cheeks flush as he steps towards Harry.

Harry makes a face at Gemma before looking down at Louis, a small smile on his face. 

“Hi.” Louis whispers, and Harry giggles softly. “Hey. Upstairs?” Harry says conversationally, and Louis rolls his eyes as he steps around Harry. Louis is almost to the stairs when he feels a hand wrap around his wrist and stop him in his tracks. 

He turns around to see Harry staring at him, and he grins as Harry tugs him close, wrapping his arms around Louis’ waist.

“D’you like my khakis?” Louis’ voice is as low and sultry as he can make it without laughing, and Harry tugs him closer with a quiet moan under his breath. 

Louis melts into Harry’s chest as their lips meet, and he wraps a hand in Harry’s hair as they kiss.

“Love ‘em. I’d like them better off, though.” Harry murmurs against Louis’ lips, and Louis feels his stomach tangle into a knot.

“Would you, now?” Louis’ words are muffled, and Harry nods, directing Louis to the stairs without disconnecting their mouths. 

Louis breaks away once they reach the stairs, and Harry groans in response to Louis’ laughter, and Louis pulls him up the stairs, linking their fingers. Louis pushes Harry’s door open, and laughs as Harry wraps himself around Louis again, takes a few more steps, and falls down onto the bed. 

Louis tangles his fingers in Harry’s mess of curls as Harry kisses his face again and again, and he hums contentedly as Harry settles his head in the crook of Louis’ neck.

“Missed you.” Louis says softly, and Harry kisses Louis’ neck in response. They lay there quietly for a few moments, until Louis breaks the silence again. “You bring my family cookies.” 

Harry’s only response is a nod, and Louis huffs. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he twists his head to look down at Harry, who shrugs.

“Didn’t think it was a big thing to give your boyfriend’s family cookies sometimes.” Harry mumbles, and Louis bites his lip against the grin that pulls at his lips. 

“It’s not. It’s really nice. They love it.” Louis squeezes Harry a little tighter, and Harry looks up at him then, eyes bright. “They do?” Harry’s voice is soft, and Louis nods, smiling down fondly at him.

“Of course they do. I’m honestly surprised they’ve never told me before.” Louis laughs quietly as he thinks about his sisters, and Harry hums, burying his face back in Louis’ neck.

“Do you want to know what I’m thankful for?” Harry asks, and Louis nods, absently drawing patterns on Harry’s back. 

“I’m thankful for my mom and my sister. I’m thankful for our friends. I’m thankful for your sisters. I’m thankful for the record shop. I’m thankful that my mom took that job, and I’m thankful that I decided to go to the bowling alley with her that night, because I’m most thankful for you.

And, I love you.” 

Louis feels the butterflies in his stomach kick up again, and he presses his lips against Harry’s hair.

“I love you.” his voice is barely a whisper as he speaks.  
Louis can hear the voices of Gemma and Anne from downstairs, and the clattering of pans, and he closes his eyes as he breathes in the familiar smells of Harry.

He wishes he can stay here in this moment forever, instead of going back to his house to where Mark and his aunts and uncles and grandparents will ask him a million questions about his life and make a million more snide comments about his future.

By the time Anne called up the stairs, Louis’ lips were buzzing, and Harry’s hair was a nest on top of his head, and when they walked down the stairs, pinkies hooked together, Louis ran a hand through his hair, trying to make himself feel more presentable. 

Harry stops him before he walks into the kitchen, and places his hands on Louis’ cheeks. Louis closes his eyes as Harry presses a soft, brief kiss to his lips, and he smiles.

“Will I be seeing you later?” Harry raises an eyebrow, and Louis nods. “Of course. We have three days to make up for.” Louis says cheekily as he turns into the kitchen, and Harry grins, following close behind. 

Anne hands him a tray full of covered dishes, and Louis laughs as Harry drops a plastic bag full of cookies on top of the tray. “Figured you might be running low.” Harry smirks, and Louis rolls his eyes, letting his smile grow. 

Anne kisses his cheek, and pats him on the shoulder with a smile. “Happy Thanksgiving, Louis. Tell your mother the same!” Louis nods, and Gemma waves from where she’s still perched on the chair.

“Nice to meet you, Louis. I’m sure I’ll see you around.” Gemma winks, and Louis feels his cheeks flush again as Harry escorts him to the front door. 

“Do you want me to walk you back?” Harry asks as Louis slides his shoes back on, and Louis winces. “Mark will be home by now.” Louis says slowly, and Harry nods, looking at his feet.

“Definitely not a good idea, then.” Harry chuckles, and Louis laughs softly, inwardly wanting nothing more than to drag Harry across the street and bring him home and show him off.

“I’ll see you later, okay?” Louis nudges Harry’s foot with his own, and Harry looks up, a small, tight smile on his face.

“I’ll be waiting.” Harry leans forward to kiss the top of Louis’ head as he opens the door, and Louis takes one last look at Harry as he crosses the road that is now filled with cars.

Harry is standing in his doorway, watching Louis like he does every time, and Louis smiles at him before opening his front door to the sounds of chaos in the form of children and adults, talking and milling around as they all greet him when he walks in the door.

Louis fields questions and comments all night, talking obligingly to his older family members and playing with the younger ones.

When his mother asks how Harry and his family were, they share a small, secret smile, and Louis helps her serve dinner, the dishes from Anne mixing in with everything that Jay had prepared.

As they sit down to eat, Louis looks out the window to where he can see Harry’s lamp brightly shining in the window, and he smiles to himself. 

After the last of the guests had left and the dishes cleaned and put away, Louis heads upstairs, and flicks his lamp on. When he changes out of his dress clothes and slips back into his comfortable track pants and t-shirt, he fiddles with the drawstring on his sweats as he looks out at Harry’s window.

Picking up the phone off of the cradle, it’s by habit that he dials Harry’s number.

When the line connects with a click and Harry’s voice greets him over the other end, he doesn’t move his eyes from where they’re still watching the window. 

“I never told you what I’m thankful for.” Louis says softly, and Harry’s chuckle is crackly in Louis’ ear. “What are you thankful for, Lou?” Louis smiles as he hears the fondness in Harry’s voice, and he sits down at his desk, propping his head in his hand. 

“I’m thankful for the way you laugh at me when I say something stupid. I’m thankful for how patient you are when you try to teach me about poetry.

I’m thankful for how much my friends love you. I’m thankful for how much my sisters love you. I’m thankful for all the cookies I’ve eaten that I didn’t know came from you.

I’m thankful for the way you smile at me when you’re half asleep. I’m thankful that I have holidays with you to look forward to for the rest of my life.” 

Louis feels like he can hear Harry’s smile over the line, and he smiles as he hears Harry’s soft sigh.

“I really do like you a lot.” Harry whispers, and Louis laughs quietly. “I really like you too.” he whispers back, and watches as he can see Harry’s shadowy form in the window.

“I’ll see you soon, Lou.” he hears, and the line clicks dead. Louis shakes his head, and places the receiver gently back on the cradle. 

He looks out at the night, streetlights casting shadows over the parked cars, and rests his head on his crossed arms on his desk.

Thanksgiving was still his least favorite holiday, but at least it’s a little less bitter now. 


	17. 'Everybody Wants To Rule The World' - Tears For Fears

_ _ _

“You just can’t do it. I’m willing to bet you so much money that you can’t do it.” 

Louis rolls his eyes at Liam’s words, and glances up at the roof of the highschool. He hears Eleanor’s giggle from behind him, and he turns around to glare at her, where she’s lounging on the dying grass with Harry’s arms wrapped around her shoulders.

“Louis, you’ve wanted that ball back since sophomore year. You haven’t gotten it yet, what makes you think that’s going to change now?” she teases, and Harry smirks at him, raising an eyebrow.

“We’re here on a Saturday because of a ball?” he chuckles, and Louis scoffs.

“It’s not just any ball.” he mumbles, twisting back to stare at the roof again, and Zayn laughs, plopping down next to Eleanor.

“Yeah, it’s the championship from sophomore year. The seniors threw it up there, and there it’s been ever since, never to see the light of day.” Zayn spouts dramatically, and Liam laughs, clapping a hand on Louis’ shoulder.

“Louis, we’ve tried everything. There’s no good way up there. You’ve gotta let it go, man.” Liam shakes him lightly, and Louis scowls, shoving Liam away. 

“It’s a matter of principle, Liam. I can’t just let it sit up there, I’ve got every championship ball we’ve ever played. I’m gonna figure out how to fucking get it down, and I’m gonna do it with or without you assholes.” Louis stomps away towards the back of the school, the voices of his friends behind him. 

He hears the crunch of grass behind him, and he turns to see Harry striding along to walk with him, a grin on his face. “If you’re coming with me to tease me, I don’t want to hear it. I need to get that ball, and I’m not going to get very many more chances.” Louis huffs, and Harry laughs, shaking his head.

“I want to help you, dummy. Where are we going?” Harry asks, grabbing for Louis’ hand, and Louis rolls his eyes, feigning reluctance as he lets Harry take his hand. 

“There’s a maintenance shed behind the school, I tried climbing it last year but I wasn’t tall enough. I’m thinking this year I can get up there, maybe use one of those tackling tires the football players use.” Louis muses as they walk, Harry swinging their hands between them. 

Harry’s been wearing more rings lately, and Louis can feel the cold metal press against his skin as Harry twines their fingers together.

Louis likes fidgeting with them when they’re laying in bed, or driving around, or at any point in time. 

As they turn behind the school, Louis stops them abruptly as he hears voices from behind the school. He tugs Harry to hide around the corner, and strains his ears to listen.

“It’s the janitors. What the hell are they doing here on a Saturday?” Louis hisses, and Harry shrugs, leaning against the brick wall. Louis sighs, and runs a hand through his hair. 

“Maybe they’re just taking out garbage.” Harry whispers, and Louis sighs again, peering around the corner where he can see the two men standing outside the door, moving black bags of trash into the dumpsters.

“Told you.” Harry’s whisper comes from right next to Louis’ ear, and he shivers as a chill runs across his neck. 

He sees Harry’s grin out of the corner of his eye, and he swats at Harry as he watches the janitors finish their job and head back into the building.

“Okay, they’re done. Now that we know they’re here we don’t have much time.” Louis steps out from the corner, and he hears Harry’s chuckle from behind him. 

“This feels like a pretty big mission, Captain. You sure we don’t need backup?” Harry asks as he follows Louis to the maintenance shed, and Louis scoffs, turning to Harry.

“Not when I’ve got the Jolly Green Giant in my corner.” Louis smirks, and Harry rolls his eyes, looking up at the roof with a small smile. 

“So, what exactly is your plan?” Harry leans on the maintenance shed wall as he watches Louis scope out the building, and Louis sighs.

“My plan was to use one of the football… things, and climb that to get onto the maintenance shed roof, and from there I can just, I don’t know. Pull myself up onto the roof.” Louis shrugs, and Harry chuckles. 

“Okay. Or, hear me out: we use a ladder?” Harry raises an eyebrow in Louis’ direction, and Louis looks at Harry, unamused.

“Very funny, Harold. If we had a ladder, obviously I’d use it.” Louis turns to look out over the back courtyard of the school again, squinting as he looks for something he could stand on, and doesn’t notice when Harry walks away towards the shop doors. 

When he does notice, Harry is nowhere to be found. Louis groans softly, and looks around for him, arms flapping to his sides. 

“Harry?” Louis whispers loudly, and hears a screech from the shop room. Louis’ eyes widen as he sees Harry walk through the shop doors, carrying a ladder in his arms, and Louis swallows as Harry approaches, a cheeky smirk on his face.

“Found a ladder.” Harry casually places the ladder down next to the maintenance shed, and Louis nods silently, staring at him. 

Harry raises an eyebrow, the smirk widening on his face. “What?” Harry asks slowly, and Louis shakes his head. “Nothing. Just… after this, we’re going right home.” Louis says matter of factly, and Harry cackles loudly as Louis climbs up the ladder.

Louis stands carefully on the shed roof, looking around, and he glances behind him as he hears Harry on the ladder. 

“What are you doing, stay down there and be my lookout.” Louis whispers, and Harry snickers, pushing Louis gently out of the way.

“How are you going to get onto the actual roof from here? Did you think that far?” Harry chides, and Louis frowns.

“Of course I did. I was just gonna, you know. Jump for it.” Louis shrugs, and Harry sighs, shaking his head with a small smile. 

“C’mere. I’ll shove you up.” Harry gestures for him to step forward, and Louis raises an eyebrow warily. “Oh, come on, Louis, don’t tell me now that you don’t trust me. I’m on a damn roof for you.” Harry waves him forward, and Louis sighs, stepping into Harry’s waiting palms. 

“Please don’t fucking drop me. My mom will kill me and you.” Louis warns, and Harry huffs out a laugh before bracing himself against the wall. “On three?” Harry asks, and Louis nods, reaching his arms out in preparation to grab the school roof.

“Right. One, two, three.” Harry grunts as he shoves Louis up, and Louis grimaces as his palms dig into rough brick on the roof. 

Pulling himself over the edge, he tumbles over onto the roof and into a pile of old, nasty leaves. Louis groans, standing up, and brushes the dirt off of his jeans. He looks around, and grins as he glances out around him at the view.

“Holy shit. I did it. We did it!” Louis calls down to Harry, and he hears Harry’s laugh from below him. 

“I knew you would. Now go get the ball.” Harry shouts back up to him, and Louis makes his way to the other side of the school, careful to keep out of any piles of leaves or puddles of water that appeared. 

He grins as he sees the soccer ball, almost entirely deflated and moldy, and lets out a loud whoop as he grabs it, holding it above his head.

He can hear the cheers from his friends below him, and he waves at them as he sees Liam and Zayn jumping around, hollering. 

Holding it to his chest tightly, he races back to where he had left Harry. Leaning down over the ledge, he waves the ball above his head. “Guess who’s got it, baby!” Louis shouts, and Harry grins up at him.

“What did I tell you? Now hurry up and get down here so I can kiss you.” 

Harry holds his arms out, and Louis grins giddily as he flips over, carefully sliding over the ledge until he feels Harry’s hands grab his feet. 

Harry catches him in his arms as Louis comes tumbling off the roof, and Louis laughs breathlessly as he wraps his arms around Harry’s shoulders. 

“Good job, babe.” Harry presses a kiss to Louis’ cheek, and Louis sighs. “You would have loved the view from up there. You can see all the way to the lake.” Louis’ feet land on the maintenance shed roof as he speaks, and Harry hums, still holding onto his hand. 

“I like the view I have from down here.” he squeezes Louis’ hand, and as Louis makes his way down the ladder, he stops to glance up at Harry, who is looking down at him with a soft, fond smile. 

“What?” Louis asks softly, a smile coming to his lips, and Harry shakes his head. “Nothing. Just love looking at you.” Harry moves to follow him down the ladder, and Louis hops to the ground, still clutching the ball close to himself. 

Louis watches out for the janitors as Harry quickly puts the ladder back in the shop room, and reaches his hand out for Harry’s as he approaches.

Harry grabs it, and Louis takes off in a sprint, grinning madly as Harry sputters and protests behind him. 

Louis slows down as they reach the front of the school, and Harry groans as he tugs on Louis’ arm. “No more, please. Literally begging you, here.” Harry pants, and Louis smirks.

“You’ve got to get out more, Styles. One day the world will end and you’ll be completely unprepared.” Louis teases, twisting his fingers in between Harry’s as they walk the rest of the way to their friends. 

Harry scoffs, and pushes a hand through his hair. “I won’t need to fucking run when the world ends. The world is ending anyway, what would I run from?”

Louis rolls his eyes at Harry’s answer, and laughs as he hears Zayn and Liam whooping at them. 

“All right, you nasties, where’s the ball?” Liam pummels Louis’ shoulder as he runs up to them, and Louis tosses it to him with a smirk.

“You said something about betting me money?” Louis teases, and Liam snorts, tossing the ball up in the air. 

“We never shook, all bets or offers thereof are null and void.” Louis raises his eyebrows at Liam’s choice of words, and Eleanor walks up to them, shaking her head as she buries her hands in her jacket pockets. 

“Come on, you testosterone freaks, I want to stop by the record shop on the way home.” Eleanor grabs Harry’s other arm, and Louis lets out a squeak of protest as she tugs Harry away. 

Liam throws one arm around Louis’ shoulder and wraps his other around Zayn’s waist with a sigh as they follow Harry and Eleanor to the car.

“Feels kinda like when we were kids. But better.” Liam says wistfully, and Louis chuckles, watching fondly as Harry skips with Eleanor, throwing his head back in laughter. 

The friendship between the two of them hadn’t been one that any of them had expected in the slightest, but now, Harry and Eleanor were practically inseparable.

They’d pore over records together in the shop as Louis sulked on the couch, and they’d went to Louis’ championship game together, holding signs and cheering louder than anyone.

Louis was grateful that Eleanor had taken this as well as she did, and even though he felt like sometimes Harry might like Eleanor more than he liked Louis, he was glad they got along. 

However, as he glanced every so often at Liam and Zayn, there was a different dynamic between them now. Louis would notice that Zayn’s hand would linger on Liam’s arm a second too long, or that Liam’s eyes would follow Zayn across the room longer than usual.

Louis wasn’t exactly sure what was happening, but he was choosing to ignore it. 

Now, they’re approaching the car, and Liam is teasing Zayn about something or another, Harry and Eleanor have already taken residence in the front seats, and Louis is happy.

As he tumbles into the backseat, smooshed in between Zayn and Liam, he smiles at Harry, who winks at him in the rearview.

Louis is so happy, and can’t see how anything could change how he feels today. 

“What do you mean, I got a call while I was gone? They said they’d be sending letters.” Louis stares at his mother as he stands in the front hallway of his house with Harry, Liam and Zayn standing close behind, and Jay shakes her head. 

“They called, asking if you got a letter from them. I told them not as far as I knew, and they said they’d be calling later. He wouldn’t give me any more information than that.” Jay smiles sympathetically at Louis as she speaks, and Louis stares at the ground.

“Just stay close by for tonight, maybe? We wouldn’t want you to miss the call again.” Jay walks back into the kitchen, her words trailing behind her, and Louis groans, rubbing his face with his hands roughly. 

“I fucked up. I wasn’t here when they called, and now they’re going to tell me that they were going to offer me a place but I fucked up and wasn’t here and now I don’t have a shot.” Louis’ voice is muffled behind his hands, and he feels three pairs of arms wrap around him. 

“Stop saying that crap, Louis, they’d be idiots to not offer you a spot. They probably just have to tell you themselves for legal reasons or some shit.” Zayn rubs Louis’ hair as he speaks, and he feels Harry’s hair tickle his face.

“Maybe the letter went to the wrong place? We can go ask around or something.” Harry mumbles, and Louis can feel lips against his temple.

“We’ll all stick around until they call, okay? We don’t have anything important going on.” Liam says, and the other two boys voice their agreement. Louis feels his eyes pricking as he smiles at his friends, and nods. 

“Louis, tell your friends they’re staying for dinner. I have to leave to work, but there’s a roast in the oven, and all you have to do is pull it out.” Jay calls from the kitchen, and the boys grin at each other, shouting out a chorus of thank-you’s as they make their way into the living room, Louis pulling Harry with him onto the couch as Liam and Zayn argue over channels in front of the TV. 

Harry cuddles close to Louis as Liam and Zayn finally agree on a channel and join them on the couch, Louis groaning as Liam’s elbow goes straight into his gut. “Just like old times, eh, Lou?” Liam grins as he nudges Louis, who rolls his eyes and shoves at his muscled friend. 

“Yeah, only you’re a good hundred pounds heavier now. Move, you walrus.” Louis grumbles, and Liam cackles as he settles cozily next to Louis.

Zayn and Liam start up their classic arguing again as Louis rests his head on Harry’s, smiling contentedly to himself as he watched whatever stupid show they’d put on.

Louis turns as he hears his sisters on the stairs, and waves at them as the four girls stare into the room in disgust.

“Hey. Mom left dinner. You can come watch if you want.” Louis cocks his head towards the TV, and Harry sits up, smiling at the girls over the back of the couch. “Well, hello, ladies.”

Harry’s words are met with wide grins and giggles as the girls race over to the couch and throw themselves at Harry, earning groans from the other boys. 

“Alright, I’m evacuating this couch. Zayn and I claim the little couch.” Liam tumbles off the couch as he speaks, and Harry chuckles from where the girls are attempting to braid his hair.

“It’s called a loveseat, Liam.” Harry mumbles, and Zayn gives him a swift punch to the arm before following Liam to the sofa seat. 

Louis watches the two of them, and a small twinkle of understanding begins to bloom in his mind. He smiles as they resume their argument, and he feels Harry’s hand wrap around his. 

He glances at Harry, who is in deep conversation with Felicite over the benefits of using honey on your hair, and he can’t help the fond smile from coming onto his face.

Daisy and Phoebe are busily twisting knots into Harry’s hair, and Lottie is sitting on the couch, not saying a word. 

Louis nudges her with his hand, and raises an eyebrow when she turns to look at him. “What’s up with you?” Louis asks, voice soft, and Lottie looks down. 

Louis follows her eyes to where his and Harry’s hands are still connected, and he feels heat rush to his cheeks. Lottie looks back up to him, a small smile on her face.

“I just figured. That’s all.” Lottie’s quiet words bring an odd sense of relief to Louis, and he smiles back at her.

A knock at the front door brings all conversations to a brief halt, and Louis shuffles his way off of the couch. The conversations resume behind him as he walks to the door, and when he opens it, he sees his next door neighbor standing in front of him. 

“Hi, Mr. Parson. Everything okay?” Louis asks of their elderly neighbor, who nods and laughs jovially.

“Still alive and kicking, Louis. Just dropping off a piece of mail for you, actually. Must have come to our house by mistake yesterday and we just noticed. Seems kind of important.” 

Louis takes the letter that his neighbor is holding out to him, unable to find any words.

He sees the familiar North American Soccer League logo on the front of the envelope, and he feels like his knees are about to give out. 

“Tell your parents I say hello. Have a good night, Louis!” Mr Parson says cheerfully as he walks off of Louis’ front porch, and Louis waves at him as he stares at the envelope. 

Louis slowly shuts the door behind him, and as his chest begins feeling tight he looks up to see Harry standing in front of him, watching him silently. 

“I got a letter.” Louis whispers, and Harry nods. 

Louis looks back down at the letter as his hands begin to shake. He sees Harry’s feet approach, and Harry’s hands wrap around his.

“You have to open it.” Harry’s voice is low and calm, and Louis nods.

He can hear the conversation in the other room grow quiet again, and the TV sound lowered, and he closes his eyes, leaning forward until his head rests against Harry’s chest.

  
“I’m gonna be sick.” Louis groans, and Harry chuckles, the sound vibrating through Louis’ head. “Open the letter, Lou.” Harry gently forces Louis’ head back up, and Louis inhales deeply. “Okay.” he whispers, and Harry drops his hand. 

Louis stares at the envelope in his hands, and as he tears the slit in the paper he can feel a folded paper. “Fuck.” Louis whispers, pulling the paper out of sleeve, and he lets the envelope drop to the ground as he holds the paper in his hand. 

This is it. This is the moment he had been waiting for his whole life.

The moment he’d been waiting for as long as he could remember is here, and it’s happening, and Louis is sick to his stomach.

This is the moment that will either change everything, or make everything he’d ever worked for crash down around him.

Louis glances up at Harry, who is watching him with serious expression, and he exhales deeply, clenching his jaw as he unfolds the letter. 

**November 17, 1982**

**Louis Tomlinson,**

**On behalf of the North American Soccer League, we are pleased to offer you a position**

**with us for our upcoming 1983 season. Upon graduation from highschool, be sure to**

Louis’ head feels like it’s about to explode. 

He drops to the floor as his knees finally give out, and he feels his body begin to shake. He can hear Harry say his name from above him, but it sounds like he’s swimming in a pool full of jello.

He feels Harry take the letter from his hands, and he hears Harry let out a howl as he reads. 

Louis can’t respond as Harry pulls him into his arms, and he can hear the others join them in the hallway. Louis is brought back to reality as his sisters dive into his lap, and he wraps his arms around them as they shriek into his ears. 

Louis looks up at his friends, tears brimming in his eyes as he sees them hugging each other as they stand above him, grinning down at him.

“Holy shit, Louis. You did it.” Liam’s voice cracks as he speaks, and Harry swats out at him. “Language. Kids.” Louis can tell that Harry is trying to save face, and Louis hugs his sisters a little closer. 

“I’m so proud of you, Lou.” Lottie says as she squeezes him tightly, and Louis sniffles. As the voices above him begin to intermingle again, the words on the paper flash across his vision over and over again. 

Everything he’s worked for since he was 10 years old is coming true now. 

Everything he’s ever dreamed about being. 

Louis’ eyes flicker back up to meet Harry’s, who is looking at him with a fond, slightly teary smile. Louis feels his chest tighten in a different way now, and he smiles up at Harry. 

Everything they’ve talked about in bed at 1am.

Everything they’ve dreamt up on car rides to school or on the floor of the record shop.

It’s all coming true. 

Louis feels his smile grow as Harry mouths ‘I love you’ almost imperceptibly, but all Louis can do is smile as he sits on the floor, his sisters still in his lap, and his best friends above him.

Nothing could ever be better than how Louis feels right now, in this moment. 

And he’s not sure if he’d ever want anything to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhhh.  
> double update!!  
> I hope the time lapse(s) haven't been too confusing for anyone, I hate too many fluffy filler chapters, but this one was definitely needed.  
> thank you for 1k hits! for some reason that seems crazy, lol.
> 
> TPWK.  
> ~a


	18. Dance With Me - Orleans

_ _ _

In the weeks that followed after Louis received his letter, the 1983 NASL primary roster was announced, and his life became a whirlwind of phone calls, college letters, and more “professional business” meetings than he’d ever imagined he’d have to sit through. 

His mother had cried when she read the letter, Mark had cracked a beer for him, and Louis had been grateful that he didn’t make a bigger fuss about it.

Jay had hung his letter on the Christmas tree when they had set it up, and Louis rolls his eyes every time he passes it.

Louis is sitting on Harry’s living room floor now, staring at a small stack of unopened envelopes from colleges that he had been avoiding for weeks,and Harry is absently playing with his rings as he watches a sitcom on the television. 

“All these letters, and what’s the point if I haven’t gotten one from the school I want?” Louis groans as he slumps against the couch, and Harry chuckles, reaching down to ruffle a hand in Louis’ hair.

“You’ve had above a 4.0 GPA your entire highschool career, you made into the North American Soccer League, and you’ve had a thousand colleges from across the country reach out to you, and you’re still worried about Stanford?” 

Louis looks back at Harry, and shrugs. “It’s just something I always thought about on the side. In case the whole soccer thing didn’t work out.” Louis grabs the stack and sorts through them, glancing at the return labels on each. 

Harry hums, leaning forward to rest his chin on Louis’ head, and reaches out for one of the envelopes.

“What about Duke? Duke’s a great school too, you know.” Harry tears open the envelope, and Louis sighs. 

“My grandpa always had this dream about me going to Stanford. He’d always say that I had enough brains and talent to run the country.” Louis snorts, and he can feel Harry’s soft laughter.

“He’s not wrong. You’re one of the smartest and most talented people I know.” Harry says matter-of-factly, and Louis twists around to smirk at Harry. “Don’t just say that, you’ll really boost my ego.” 

Harry grins at Louis, and sits up on the couch. “I’m getting you a cookie. Maybe that’ll give you a better attitude.” Harry shoves at Louis’ shoulders gently as he stands, and Louis watches him leave, a fond smile resting on his face. 

Harry’s living room is decorated for Christmas, and even though it rarely snows in northern California, Harry had still managed to make it feel like Louis was sitting in a log cabin in the woods, complete with fake snow and a small pile of firewood. 

Liam had said that it was silly of Harry to decorate for a holiday that may as well not even exist in California, but Louis loves that Harry is so insistent on decorating.

Christmas is only two days away, and Louis is still struggling to find something for Harry that isn’t cliche or gaudy.

Louis has no idea what to buy for a boyfriend, he had a hard enough time buying for Eleanor for the last however many years.

When Harry returns, Louis has opened all of the letters and glanced at them, and is now watching the show on television with a reproachful glare. 

“Why don’t these people realize that it’s just a guy in a suit? A suit doesn’t drastically change somebody that much.” Louis says critically, and Harry laughs as he hands Louis a small plate of cookies.

“You really do love to suck the joy out of shitty daytime TV.” Harry teases, snagging a cookie off of the plate before settling back on the couch, and Louis rolls his eyes, taking a bite of a snickerdoodle. 

“All I’m saying is that they expect us to believe that these people are idiots, and that’s implying that it makes us idiots.” Louis’ words are muffled, and Harry shakes his head.

“You’re not an idiot. You’re the least idiot out of all of us.” Louis can feel Harry press a kiss to his head, and Louis smiles, still staring at the TV. 

They both turn towards the front door as a sudden, frantic knocking startles them, and Louis stands, waving for Harry to stay seated.

He tugs the front door open, and raises an eyebrow as he sees Liam and Zayn standing in front of him, both boys with excited looks on their faces. 

“Had a feeling you’d be here. Come on, Barry’s got the new Todd Rundgren album at the shop and he says we can have first dibs.” Liam is practically buzzing with excitement, and Louis smirks, raising an eyebrow.

“I didn’t know you were a Rundgren fan. Besides, how does he have it, it’s not supposed to come out till after Christmas?” Louis steps out of the doorway so that the two boys could step inside, and Zayn shrugs.

“Barry’s definitely got ties to the mafia somewhere. I wouldn’t put it past him to get anything.” Zayn chuckles, and waves at Harry. 

“I’m always down for a trip to the shop. I have to pick up some records I hid the other day anyway.” Harry shuts off the TV as he stands, and Louis rolls his eyes as he grabs his jacket off of the coat hook.

When they make their way outside, Louis groans as he sees Zayn’s beater outside. “You couldn’t have taken your dad’s car today, Li? I just got the smell of pot out of this jacket.” Louis shoves at Liam as they walk, and Zayn snorts.

“That’s not my fault you didn’t leave your coat outside.” Zayn states matter-of-factly, and Harry pinches Louis’ side with a jangle of his keys. 

“I’ll drive, but no monkey business.” Harry sternly looks at Louis and Liam, who looks back at Harry, affronted. “We don’t monkey business. We do friendly discussion.” Liam pulls open Harry’s backseat door, and Zayn is quick to slide into the other side.

Louis and Harry exchange a glance, and Harry smiles at Louis. “Guess you’re riding shotgun.” 

Louis shrugs, tugging at the handle. “As long as you’re driving. Your car is still worth more than my life.” Louis’ words earn a quiet chuckle from Harry, and as they set off down the street, Louis listens to his friends strike up a conversation about their Christmas plans.

He stares out the window, watching the Christmas lights on people’s houses begin to flicker on, and as the quiet Christmas music plays over the radio, he feels a hand take his. 

Glancing over at Harry, he feels the familiar warmth in his stomach as he looks in Harry’s eyes that are twinkling with glee as they take in the decorations around them. 

Louis watches him for a few seconds longer, the warm feeling sitting comfortably in his tummy.

When they pull up to the record shop, Liam and Zayn tumble out of the car and dash through the shop door. Louis takes his time, dawdling behind as he waits for Harry to shut off the car and walk around to the passenger side.

Harry holds Louis’ door open with a small smirk, extending his hand. “My good sir, your door.” Louis rolls his eyes as Harry puts on an affected accent, but takes his hand, tangling their fingers as Harry tugs him out of the car. 

“I still think it’s weird that they’re so excited about a Rundgren album. I’ve never heard either one of them say anything about him before.” Louis pushes the door closed, and Harry shrugs as they step onto the sidewalk.

“Nobody knows what’s been going on with those two lately.” Harry places a hand on the door handle, and as he pulls the door open, Louis is suddenly assaulted by loud, blaring music and paper confetti explosions. 

Eyes wide, he looks around the record shop, decorated with balloons and streamers, to see Liam and Zayn standing in front of him, huge grins on their faces as they hold now empty confetti crackers.

Eleanor is standing close behind, a smile on her face as she holds a cake, decorated with icing soccer balls and sparklers, and Barry is leaning against a record machine, bopping his head to the sounds of Bowie coming through the speakers. 

Louis feels Harry squeeze his hand, and he shakes his head incredulously. “What the hell is this?” Louis brushes confetti out of his hair as he speaks, and Liam bounces over like an excited puppy.

“It’s your birthday party. Since we won’t all be together for Christmas, we figured we’d surprise you and throw you something before then.” Liam places a paper party hat on Louis’ head, and tosses one in Harry’s direction with a smirk. 

“Don we now our gay apparel.” Louis hears Harry mumble from behind him, and Louis glances at him, eyes wide as a smirk breaks over his face. 

“Just put on the hat, Harold.” he hears Eleanor’s voice over the music, and Louis turns to face her as she holds out her arms.

Louis steps into them with a smile, and he can smell her familiar shampoo as she squeezes him gently.

“Happy early birthday, Lou.” she whispers into his ear, and he presses a soft kiss to her cheek. “Thanks, El. Really.” Louis is sincere as he hugs her, and she pats his back before stepping away to grab Harry in a hug. 

Zayn wraps his arm around Louis’ shoulder then, dragging him away from Harry to the record display that was now being used as a makeshift table, and Louis can see a few wrapped packages sitting next to a birthday themed bag.

“We all wanted to pitch in and get you something. They’re not a lot, but we’re all pretty broke.” Zayn laughs as he hops up to perch on the display, and Louis bites his tongue against a quick reprimand.

They’re joined by the others then, the music being lowered fractionally as Louis slowly picks up a medium sized package. 

He holds it in his hands a moment, feeling the slight weight of it.

His family never was one for doing many gifts, especially with how many kids there are. He’s lucky if he gets one gift for his birthday and Christmas each, and he’s grateful for all of them.

Last year, he had gotten new soccer cleats that he’d been needing for months, and he didn’t even want to know how far back they’d put his parents.

He was better at giving gifts, so receiving them makes him feel… strange. 

"Just to be clear, there is no Rundgren album, right?" Louis raises an eyebrow at Liam and Zayn, who burst out in laughter. Eleanor shakes her head, grinning. "That was just to get you down here. I'm surprised it actually worked." 

Louis looks back down at the gift, and exhales slowly. He picks at the paper carefully, detaching the tape pieces and sliding the cardboard box out of its wrapping.

“Louis, please hurry up, it’s not like you don’t know how to unwrap a gift.” Liam groans, and yelps softly as Louis hears a fist thud against Liam’s jacket. Louis chuckles softly, and lifts the lid on the box.

His breath catches as he sees a silver picture frame, holding a picture of the five of them. Louis recognizes the background first, and then the day. 

“This is from the finals game.” Louis murmurs softly, and Eleanor nods, leaning against Harry as she smiles. “My dad caught the picture on his camera. Didn’t even know he’d taken the shot.” he hears her say, but he can’t stop staring at the picture. 

They’re huddling together, Zayn and Liam’s arms wrapped around each other’s shoulders in celebration, and Eleanor is mid-laugh as she hangs on to Liam’s hand.

Louis is standing in the center with a painful looking grin that causes his eyes to all but disappear as he stares up at Harry, whose hands are tightly clutching Louis’ face, mouth wide in excitement. 

Louis brushes the picture with his fingertips, and feels his eyes prick as he stares at Eleanor’s dainty handwriting on the bottom right corner. 

_1982 - the beginning._

Louis looks up at his friends, who are watching him with various expressions, and he sniffles softly. “Guys, I…” Louis trails off as he shakes his head, and Zayn nudges him.

“We love ya, Louis. We know you hate mushy stuff.” Zayn teasingly pokes at Louis’ arm, and Louis shakes his head, smiling to himself.

Barry turns the music back up as they all begin talking over each other again, Louis grinning as he unwraps the rest of his gifts.

Harry wraps his arms around Louis’ waist, resting his chin on Louis’ shoulder as their conversations overlap and cake is cut. 

As the Christmas lights twinkle outside, Louis looks around at his friends, a small, content smile resting on his lips. Harry looks down at him, and presses a kiss to the top of his head before continuing his debate with Liam. 

The hours fly by, and before they know it the cake is gone, the records have stopped spinning, and the clocks on the wall read past 2am.

Louis is cuddled up on the couch, securely placed in Harry’s lap, with Eleanor resting against his knees, half asleep. Harry is absently twisting a lock of his curly hair around his fingers, and Louis is watching him sleepily, keeping to himself.

In a few days, Eleanor will be heading out east to spend Christmas with her mother’s family, and Zayn and Liam would be heading down south with their families to tour colleges together. Louis didn’t know what Harry’s plans were, but he had a feeling they weren’t too extensive. 

Louis’ jaw-cracking yawn brings Harry’s attention to him, and Louis rubs his eye as he smiles up at Harry. “Ready to go?” Harry’s voice is soft as he brings a hand to wrap around Louis’ neck, and Louis shrugs, closing his eyes as he leans into Harry’s warm touch. “If you are.” he murmurs, and Harry chuckles. 

“I think we should call it, guys.” Harry sits up, disrupting both Louis and Eleanor, who groans, stuffing her face in the couch. 

“Why can’t we just sleep here? It’s too late to go home.” Liam grumbles, and Louis looks over to where Liam is sprawled on the floor, a sleeping Zayn’s face smooshed into Liam’s arm.

“Because I think we’d all like to be in our own beds in the morning. Come on, kids.” Harry stands, pulling Louis with him, and Liam scowls. 

“I remember when everyone thought you were just a pretty face. You’re too pretty to be so bossy.” Liam slowly sits up, shaking Zayn awake as he stretches. Louis watches them for a moment, still trying to figure out the weird new dynamic between them, until Eleanor rests her head against his shoulder. 

“Did you have a nice party?” she whispers as Harry goes around, flicking off lights and resetting misplaced records. Louis nods, wrapping his arm around her. 

“Yeah. I did.” he leans his cheek against her soft hair, and she sighs softly. They sit in silence, the only sounds being Harry rustling around.

“Everything will be different this time next year.” Zayn’s voice is quiet and thoughtful, and Louis hums. “Different is good.” Liam stands, reaching a hand out to Zayn, and Louis makes his way to the front door with Eleanor in tow. 

As they all pull on their jackets, there’s no sign of Barry, but they all call out their goodbyes anyway. Zayn and Liam decide to drive home with Eleanor, and after Liam forces Louis and Zayn into a tight hug, they part ways, Eleanor hanging onto Liam’s arm as he gesticulates widely about something.

Louis slips his hand into Harry’s as they walk to the car, and Harry gives his hand a squeeze. 

“Did you know about all this?” Louis waves his free hand towards the shop, and Harry shrugs, a small smirk peeking out on his lips. “I had a clue.” Harry opens the door for Louis, who shakes his head before sliding into the car.

Shivering at the touch of the chilled leather, he wraps his arms around himself as he waits for Harry to get in the car, but Harry doesn’t move. Louis’ brow dips as he watches Harry stare up into the sky, and he leans out of the door.

“H? What are you-” 

Louis stops abruptly as he notices the small, glistening flakes falling from the sky. His eyes grow wide as he stands, extending his hand, and as he feels the cold snow on his skin, he lets out a hushed laugh.

“It’s snowing.” Louis stares at the snow melting on his palm, and then looks back up at Harry, who is watching him with an expression that Louis can’t quite piece together.

Harry steps towards him, and Louis’ breathing does the thing it always does when he looks at Harry. 

In the half moon-half streetlight, Harry is practically phosphorescent, his skin luminous and perfect, his eyes glowy and fond.

As Louis looks up at him, the snow gently falls into Harry’s curls that are tumbling over his shoulders, and Louis decides that Harry has never been more beautiful. 

Harry places his hands on Louis’ cheeks, and Louis brings his hands up to cup around them. “I can’t wait to spend a lifetime of birthdays with you.” Louis can barely hear the words come from Harry’s mouth, but he does.

He closes his eyes as his lips are suddenly flooded with warmth, and as the snow falls around them, Louis has never loved a birthday as much as this one. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh me oh my.  
> i still haven’t figured out my ao3 problem, but here she is, chapter update 1 of 2 today.  
> i’ve missed you.  
> to be frank, this isn’t one of my best chapters. i struggled a lot writing it, but it’s soft, and i hope you liked it. 
> 
> tpwk always. 
> 
> a


	19. Cold As Ice - Foreigner

_ _ _

In the days that followed, Louis felt like he was living on a cloud.

He spent day in and day out with Harry after his remarkable birthday, even Christmas Day, when hours later after dinner, they laid in Harry’s bed, Louis lazily tracing the shape of Harry’s soft red lips in the near darkness, the light of the moon sending shadows dancing over their bodies.

He could kiss Harry’s lips without anyone knowing or caring in the safety of Harry’s little room, he could touch every inch of Harry’s skin and earn soft, uncharacteristic giggles, he could hold Harry close and pretend that the world outside doesn’t exist. 

He should have known it wouldn’t last. 

Louis was closing his front door carefully behind him, hyper aware of the early morning hour that had come upon him quicker than he had expected.

He winced at the sound of the click of the doorhandle, and held his breath for a moment as he waited for the sounds of stirring from the floor above. Giving a soft sigh as he hears nothing, he toes off his shoes and makes his way to the front stairs when he hears a creaking from the living room.

Louis freezes as he hears Mark’s voice, and a pit grows in his stomach as he hears the cold undertones in his words. 

“Have a nice sleepover, Louis?”

Louis slowly turns to face his stepfather, who is staring at him from the recliner, face unreadable.

Louis shrugs, resisting the urge to bolt out the front door and back into the safety of Harry’s arms. “Not really sure what you’re talking about.” Louis lies, and Mark lets a hiss through his teeth.

“Sneaking out and lying isn’t a good look on you, son.” Mark stands as he speaks, arms crossed over his chest as he takes a step towards Louis, who in turn fights every impulse to back down.

“Why don’t you tell me where you really were?”

Louis can see the cool toned winter sunlight beginning to creep in through the windows, and it casts uneven shadows on the ground as he stares anywhere but Mark’s face.

“I was just out. With the guys. We had a sleepover at Liam’s.” Louis lies yet again, and Mark scoffs loudly. “Do you think I’m stupid, boy? I saw you hightailing on over from that Styles boy’s house.” 

The pit in Louis’ stomach is threatening to swallow him whole.

“I watched you leave out that front door, and I watched that boy keep his eyes on you the entire time, and now I want to know why.” Mark’s voice has a timbre that Louis hasn’t heard before, but it sends a moment of nerves down his spine. 

Louis knows what he’s looking for. Louis knows that Mark wants any excuse to destroy Harry, to send him away from the town that has been so comfortable, so ordinary, so non-compliant for years. Louis knows what Mark wants, and he can’t do that to Harry.

So, Louis lies. 

“I was there with Liam and Zayn. We stayed out late after bowling, and we decided to have a night at Harry’s, since he had the empty house.” 

Louis can tell Mark isn’t convinced.

So, Louis lies harder.  
“If you really think I’d have anything more to do with that pansy than that, you really must not know me, Mark. Makes me sick being in the same room as him, but you know what mom says. Gotta have that good, old fashioned charm.” 

Louis’ words twist in his gut as he speaks, flashing Mark a tight lipped smile, but he can tell that Mark is barely appeased now. 

“As long as that’s all it was. Can’t have a son of mine’s good record get ruined by some pillow biting hippie.” Mark claps a hand onto Louis’ shoulder, and Louis can feel the threat in his grip. 

“Now listen, I don’t think it’s going to be very good for you to hang around that kid anymore. I think you need to start focusing on passing your senior year. Colleges are still looking at grades, even if you have that soccer program. You agree with me, don’t you, son?”

Mark’s eyes are daring Louis to speak up, to say anything that would incriminate him, but Louis forces his face to stay indifferent. 

“You know best, Mark.” Louis grits out, and Mark nods, smiling tersely at Louis. “Good kid. Now get on upstairs, and don’t wake your mother.” Mark releases him with a slight shake, and Louis stands at the foot of the stairs for a moment longer before dashing up them, barely keeping the tears in his eyes. 

He manages to make it to the bathroom as he feels the tears drop down his cheeks, and as he pushes the door closed behind him he lets out a shuddery breath, one that he hadn’t realised he was holding, and he slumps against the counter in the darkness. 

He knows what this means now.

He knows that now, he would be under scrutiny every day, every time he left the house.

Louis knows that Mark has eyes all over town, and with a few words to a friend or two he could find out that Louis had been with Harry at the record store, at the drive in, at the bowling alley.

He knows that now, Mark could find out exactly where Louis had been all those late nights after practice was over, or in the afternoons instead of at ‘study group’, or ‘the library’, or ‘off season practice’. 

The realisation of what he now has to do hits him like a ton of bricks, and he lets out a choked sob as he curls up on himself. 

Last night with Harry had been different. Special. 

They’d done the same things they usually do, cuddling in the living room, watching some stupid tv show before they had made their way upstairs, kissing lazily, tongues messily wrapping around themselves as they lay on Harry’s bed, Louis’ hands finding their way onto Harry’s chest, Harry’s hands finding themselves tight on Louis’ backside. 

Louis had felt passionate kissing with Harry, he’d felt comfortable kissing with Harry, he’d even felt drunk kissing with Harry.

He couldn’t put an adjective to what kissing with Harry felt like that night. He had felt confident, but shy. Terrified, but excited. 

He could tell that Harry felt it too, and as their various pieces of clothing came off, littering the floor, he could tell that Harry’s breathing was a little shallower than it had been before. 

He had cupped Harry’s cheek, brushing the brown curls away from his eyes, and had kissed him on the corner of his mouth with gentle reassurance. 

Louis had never experienced a feeling like how he’d felt last night, and now he knows he never will again. 

Closing his eyes in the darkness, Louis tries to push down the ripping feeling he has in his chest. His breathing is the only sound in the room, in and out, in and out, until another sob racks his body.

He lets the tears come, the acceptance of what he needs to do coming out in painful gasps as he slides down to lay against the cool tile of the bathroom. 

He doesn’t know how long he stays there, but soon there’s a knocking on the bathroom door.

“Louis? Open the door, I really have to go.” He keeps his eyes closed, ignoring Lottie’s voice, but sighs as she knocks on the door again.

“Please.” she whines louder, and Louis slowly sits up, pushing himself to stand. He twists the handle, and Lottie pushes him aside, closing the door behind her quickly as she mutters in disdain.

He walks to his room, his feet made of lead, and softly closes the door. Collapsing on his bed, he pulls the blankets up to cover his head, and prays for suffocation as he lays. 

Louis doesn’t talk to Harry for the rest of their winter break. He calls the house often, and Louis’ mother or his sisters will tell him that ‘Harry’s on the line’, but he shrugs them away, choosing instead to take a soccer ball into the backyard, or go upstairs to work on an application essay.

Soon, the calls stop.

Liam and Zayn even come by, but Louis isn’t in the mood for friendly company. 

Louis only saw Harry once, as he rode his bike into town to pick something up at the grocery store. Harry was standing in his driveway, hugging Gemma goodbye as she left to go back to college.

Louis had to tear his eyes away from the scene, but he could feel Harry’s burning holes into his back as he pedalled frantically away. 

Liam came over by himself the day before they were due to go back to school.

He and Louis were sitting on the back stoop of Louis’ house, pushing a soccer ball between them when Liam speaks up. 

“I know you don’t want to talk about it, but I’m your best friend and I deserve to know.” Louis closes his eyes and sighs as he knows what Liam is getting at. Before he can get a word out, Liam holds his hand up, effectively shutting Louis up. 

“I don’t know what happened between you two, but Harry is miserable.” Liam’s words smack the air out of Louis, and he stares at the grass as Liam continues.

“He says you won’t answer his calls, you won’t call him back, you won’t even go out in your front yard anymore. He hasn’t slept in like, three days, Lou. He spends every day glued to a phone, either at home or at the record shop.” Liam pushes at Louis’ shoulder, and huffs out a sigh. 

“Harry’s a mess. He thinks he did something wrong, and he’s kicking himself, and he won’t tell me why. Did he do something?” Liam’s voice is soft, and Louis’ chest aches as he shakes his head quickly.

His eyes fly up to look at his best friend, who is watching him carefully, warm brown eyes full of concern. 

“No. No, he didn’t do anything, god, no. I just…” Louis trails off, glancing at the screen door behind them, and Liam follows his eyes, understanding flooding his face as Mark’s voice comes from inside the house.

“Oh.” Liam says on a sigh, and Louis closes his eyes, planting his head in his hands. 

“I can’t risk anything happening to him. You know what people here are like.” Louis’ voice is muffled by his hands, and he feels Liam scoot closer to him. 

“Yeah.”

They sit quietly for a few minutes, and Louis is suddenly taken back to a few years before.

He was sitting out on this exact stoop, picking at the dying January grass in the backyard as he watched his little sisters play in front of him when he heard the yelling start. 

“This whole _fucking_ country is going to hell in a handbasket, and all we have to show for it is that faggot Harvey Milk for an elected official.” Mark’s biting words were followed by a crash, and Louis had winced at the sound of breaking glass.

“Mark, honey, what could he possibly do to us here? There’s only one of him, plus, it’s in San Francisco, it shouldn’t matter to you that he’s ga-” 

His mother’s words had been cut off by Mark’s loud outburst, and Louis had wrapped his arms around himself, not wanting to listen anymore as Mark’s angry words floated through the walls.

Lottie had come up to him, lower lip quivering, and he had held her in his arms silently as Mark yelled.

Louis is brought back to the present by Liam’s voice, and he blinks as he refocusses.

“What?” he asks dumbly, and Liam gives him a look.

“I was asking what you want me to tell Harry. He knew I was coming over today. He didn’t ask me to say anything, but I just.. He’s like a kicked puppy.” Liam shakes his head, and Louis chews on the inside of his cheek.

“Don’t tell him anything. It’s better if it comes from me.” Louis looks down at his worn out Converse, and he can feel Liam’s eyes watching him. 

“If what comes from you, exactly?” Liam’s voice is quietly hesitant, like he doesn’t want to hear the answer that he knows is coming, and Louis sets his jaw in forced determination.

“I can’t see him anymore. At all. If Mark finds out, I’m dead, and so is Harry. I got out of it by the seat of my pants last time, and I can’t risk anything-” 

“Yeah, I know. You can’t risk anything happening to him.” Liam cuts him off, kicking at the soccer ball that was resting at their feet.

Louis looks up at him, eyebrows raised as he sees the scowl on Liam’s face. “What’s wrong with you?” 

Louis’ words fell on deaf ears, so he nudges Liam gently with his elbow. 

Liam groans then, rubbing his hands over his face. “I wish this shit was easier, Lou. I hate this, all this hiding and running around and being scared.” Liam’s words are quiet, but Louis can hear them from behind Liam’s hands. 

“I don’t know what’s going on with any of us. Harry’s scared, you’re scared, Zayn’s scared, fuck, _I’m_ scared. The only one of us who’s even barely normal is El, and that’s just because she’s straighter than God.”

Liam wraps his arms around the back of his neck as he presses his face into his knees, and Louis stares at Liam, not sure how to respond. 

He can tell that Liam has more to say, but decides against it as he sits up, and Louis can see his eyes slowly filling with tears. 

“I’m so fucking scared, Lou, and I don’t know what to do. I’ve never been this scared in my life.” Liam looks at Louis, eyes wide and dark, and Louis silently wraps his arms around his best friend’s shoulders as they start to quietly shake. 

They sit on the stoop like that for a long time.

When they go back to school, the sense of normalcy is welcomed by Louis. A new schedule provides him the distraction he needs to avoid Harry, but Harry is everywhere.

A voice echoing through the crowded hallway, a cackling laugh that sounds through the lunchroom, a soft sneeze in the back of a classroom, Louis hears him everywhere.

It doesn’t help that they still all sit together at lunch, but now they’re back to sitting on opposite sides, never speaking, never glancing at each other. 

It’s tearing Louis apart. Louis hates every single goddamn second of this.

But he knows, he _knows_ , that if Mark were to find out, or Mr. Payne, or anyone who remotely knows Mark, Harry would be gone. Harry would be gone, and he would be even more broken than he already is. 

So Louis stays quiet. Louis keeps to himself, laughing at one of Eleanor’s jokes, answering a question Zayn had about the trig homework, and ignoring the heartbreakingly beautiful boy sitting across the table from him.

His system works well, until one rainy Wednesday. Louis is standing in the front of the school, scowling out at the rain as he shuffles his books around in his pack to try and keep them as dry as possible when he hears Harry’s voice. 

“I don’t know what I did, Zayn. I called twice a day for a week. I begged his mother to let me talk to him, but she told me that he didn’t want to. I couldn’t just go to his house. I even went to the record shop and prayed he’d show up there.” 

Louis stares out the glass doors as he hears Harry’s voice properly for the first time in weeks.

It’s so full of pain that it sends a dagger straight into Louis’ stomach, and it stabs over and over again as Harry continues. 

“I thought that coming back to school would help, that he’d open up to me again. But now he moves to the other side of the hallway, and acts like I’m not even sitting at the table. I’ll look at him, fuck, I’ll _stare_ , and it’s like I’ve got a brick wall in front of me.

And we were good, Zayn, we were so, so good. I just… I need to know what I did wrong. What could I have done wrong?” 

Harry’s voice broke on the last sentence, and the tears well up in Louis’ eyes. He can hear shuffling in the hallway, and Louis moves to the side as a few students walk out the doors, grumbling about the rain.

He can hear Zayn’s rough sigh, and imagines him shrugging as he moves to hug Harry. “I don’t think it was anything you did, H. He’s just in a weird spot. I’m sure this is going to blow over.” 

Louis leans his forehead against the cold glass of the door with a low groan as he hears Zayn’s words. He can hear Harry’s sniffles. He wants to scream. 

“I don’t think so. I think we just. Kind of. Crossed a line.” Harry’s voice is barely loud enough for Louis to hear, but he knows what Harry means.

His mind instantly flashes back to that night weeks ago, remembering Harry’s soft gasps, the feeling of Harry’s fingers wrapped tightly in his hair. 

Louis squeezes his eyes shut against the thoughts, and straightens, tugging his hood up over his head as he swings his rucksack onto his shoulders.

The rain seems to be abating, so Louis takes his chance, pushing the door in front of him open as he steps out into the mid-January rainstorm.

He’d almost reached his bike when he hears his name come from behind him, yelled out in a strangled but familiar voice.

Louis stills, hand resting on his handlebar, refusing to turn around and face the person he can hear walking swiftly up to him. 

“Louis, I know I’m the last person you want to see, but Louis, please, wait.” Harry’s plea sends nervous electricity shooting through Louis’ brain, but he waits.

When he hears wet footfalls on the sidewalk next to him, he turns, pushing his rain soaked hair off of his forehead. 

He isn’t prepared for Harry. 

He isn’t prepared for how beautiful Harry looks, standing in front of him, long hair dripping with rain as it falls around his perfect face. 

He isn’t prepared for how desperate Harry is, how tense his shoulders are, how red-rimmed his eyes look. 

He isn’t prepared for how badly he wants to fall into Harry’s arms and never let go.

But Louis holds his ground, steeling his gaze as he stares at Harry. “I’ve really got to get home before I ruin my books.” Louis says quietly, voice non-committal, and Harry sniffs, readjusting his stance. 

“I could-” Harry stops himself,looking down at the ground, and Louis forces himself to stay still, and not grab the boy’s hands in his. 

When Harry looks back up, his face is stone, and Louis recognises this face. 

“Why did you do it, Louis? Why didn’t you answer my calls? Why have you been ignoring me?” Harry’s voice is a million degrees colder, and Louis feels like he’s been frostbitten.

Louis shakes his head, leaning against the bike rack, ignoring the cold wetness pressed against his hip. 

“It’s just better for both of us in the long run.” Louis makes the words come out cooly, calmly, nonchalantly, and Harry scoffs, green eyes dark.

“Better in the long run? In what fucking world is this better, Louis, because I’d love to be on the same page as you.” Harry takes a step forward, and Louis can see that his hands are slowly balling into fists. 

“It just is. I’m leaving anyway. What’s the big deal, here?” Louis’ words sound foreign in his mouth, and Harry laughs incredulously. 

“Oh, I don’t know, Louis. Maybe the big deal is about the fact that I’ve never let another living soul touch me the way you did that night, and then you stopped speaking to me directly after? Maybe the big deal is that the person who told me he loved me and would spend forever with me is suddenly telling me that never speaking again is better in the long run? Just please, talk to me Louis, for god’s sake.” Harry’s voice is pleading now, but still ice cold, and Louis braces himself for whatever comes out of his mouth next. 

Only, nothing does.

Louis can’t speak. He has a million things he wants to say, things to drive Harry away, make him realise that he isn’t good for him, make him realise that there are so many better, safer people he could be with.

He wants to tell Harry to leave town, to go to a place that will love him and accept him, he wants to tell Harry so many things, but he settles on something else entirely. 

“I guess I was just wrong about us.”

Harry’s face falls, and Louis’ gut feels like it’s about to tear in two. Harry stares at him, rain sending torrents down his face, and Louis feels a cold chill creep up his back. 

“You were wrong.” Harry’s words aren’t a question.  
Louis answers them with a shrug anyways.

Harry exhales sharply, and shakes his head slowly, a small, sad smile creeping onto his lips.

“Okay.” Harry turns on his heel then, taking long determined strides away from Louis, and Louis watches him leave. He watches as Harry slams the door of his car, and speeds away out of the student parking lot in the opposite direction of home.

Louis sets off, gripping the handlebar so tightly his knuckles turn white.

If the rivers on his cheeks are made of tears, he’ll deny it, blaming the rain instead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi again, it’s me, your friendly neighborhood slacker.  
> i’m going to try to update much, much more frequently. i’ve hated leaving you in the dark, if anyone even cared.  
> i lost inspiration for a long time, and then i reread some of my favourite works of all time. i watched dirty dancing, i watched breakfast club, i watched all the grossest, most stereotypical 80s movies i could find, and i fell in love with this fic again.  
> i’m going to be reworking a lot of the chapters in the coming weeks both here and on wattpad. if you ever don’t see me update here, please please please check wattpad. leave me a comment, send me a message.  
> again: i have missed you so. 
> 
> tpwk always. 
> 
> ~a


	20. ‘Love Is A Battlefield’ - Pat Benetar

_ _ _

Louis is lying on his floor, bathing in a sunny spot and listening to the staticky radio playing from his desk. As he listens to the gravelly music coming through the speakers, he finds himself daydreaming, as he so often does, of when his life wasn’t a complete shitshow of ultimate proportions. 

He feels a tug at his heartstrings as he remembers back to New Years Eve, already weeks ago. 

They had gathered at one of the soccer player’s homes for the annual sports teams’ New Years Eve party, and Louis had been hammered before Harry even walked in the door, followed closely by Eleanor. 

“Harry! My boy, my moonshine, beautiful boy.” Louis had squealed, and Harry had grinned down at him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, shushing him.

“Hi, baby. You okay?” Harry had whispered into his ear, and Louis had hummed, tucking himself closer to Harry. “I’m fantastic. Havin’ a great time. Come, drink with Liam and me!”

Louis had wrapped his fingers around Harry’s long ones, and had dragged him through the house, Harry stumbling and waving greetings at the people they passed that he knew. 

Louis remembers how he had frowned when he couldn’t find Liam, and had turned to Harry, pouting. 

“I guess it’s just us.” Louis had sighed dramatically, and Harry had snickered, tucking his hair behind his ear.

“Oh, what a shame. I’d hate to have you all to myself.” Harry’s eyebrows had wiggled as he had spoken, and Louis remembers the eyeroll that he gave Harry before heading back into the crowd of people mingling loudly in the living room. 

Louis drank a lot more that night, and Harry had kept a distanced, watchful eye on him, occasionally steadying him with a hand on his back or sitting him down on an empty flat surface.

Louis had wanted to kiss him so, so badly that night.

He remembers how he stared at Harry, who was laughing with a classmate, head tossed back as he held a red plastic cup in his hand. 

Harry was so, so beautiful, and Louis was so, so in love with him. 

Harry met his eyes once, and Louis had felt like his heart was about to burst when Harry gave him a small, fond smile, and an almost imperceptible wink. 

When the 5-minutes-to-midnight countdown began, Louis had caught Harry’s attention, and when nobody was looking, he dragged him into an unoccupied bathroom.

Closing the door behind them, Louis locked it without looking as he wrapped himself around Harry’s perfect body, tangling his fingers in Harry’s perfectly messy curls, grinning up at Harry’s perfect face.

“Hi. I love you.” Louis whispered, and Harry had smiled down at him. “Hi. I love you.” Harry had whispered back, and leaned down to press his lips to Louis’ forehead. 

Louis heard the crowd outside begin to chant, and he stared into Harry’s eyes, full of disbelief at how this perfect, beautiful creature was somehow standing here, in this bathroom, about to kiss him on New Year’s Eve. 

_Five!_

Harry had tucked his hands around Louis’ cheeks, a smile perking up the corners of his lips.

_Four!_

Louis had leaned into his touch, closing his eyes for a moment as Harry stroked his cheekbones with his thumbs.

_Three!_

“I love you so much, Louis Tomlinson.”

_Two!_

“I’ll love you forever.”

_One!_

_Happy New Year!_

Louis had felt like a million fireworks were going off in his brain, in his stomach, in his chest, in his fingertips as Harry kissed him then.

He’d had plenty of New Year’s kisses, but none had made him feel as floaty, as hopeful, as excited as this one had. 

Louis squeezes his eyes tighter as he feels tears run down his cheek, and he lets out a shuddery sigh as he sees Harry’s face flashing behind his eyelids. 

The week since their fight had been excruciating for Louis. Harry hadn’t sat at their table since then, or even been to school, as it would seem, and Zayn had been on the verge of cold towards Louis.

They’re all quieter now, missing Harry’s loud cackle of a laugh, his stupid jokes. Louis had overheard Liam ask Eleanor if she’d heard from Harry, but he didn’t stick around for an answer. 

Louis knows that Harry’s car has been gone from the driveway since he left the parking lot on that rainy Wednesday, and it hasn’t been back.

He would know, since he spends his day staring at Harry’s house, looking at the window that he’d sat in a million times, the window where the light hasn’t been on in weeks. 

Louis has no idea where Harry is, and as much as he’s telling himself he shouldn’t care, he’s worried.

They’re sitting at the record shop one day, Eleanor searching for a record while Zayn and Liam bicker on the floor. Louis is sitting on the couch, curled up loosely around a pillow as he rests his head on his hand, staring out the window at the street outside.

Eleanor had just placed an Abba record on when the phone rings, and she leans over the counter to answer it. 

“Not Quite Palo Alto Records, how can I- oh my god. _Harry_.” 

Louis whips around at Eleanor’s words, mouth dropping open as his eyes widen. Eleanor is standing with her hand pressed to her chest, apparently listening intently, nodding every so often.

Her eyes flick up to look at Louis, and a sad look flashes across her face as she averts her eyes with a quiet hum. Louis desperately tries to read her face as Eleanor sighs. 

“Is there anything we can do? I can send Liam, or Zayn, or we can-”

Eleanor’s lips purse as Harry cuts her off, and she sighs again. “Harry. Please don’t shut us out.” Eleanor’s voice is a quiet murmur, and Louis pushes himself off of the couch to close the space between them, palms suddenly clammy.

He can’t look away from the phone, where he knows that Harry’s voice is coming from the receiver. 

“Do you… do you want to talk to him?” Louis’ heart flies to his throat as he hears Eleanor’s words, and he takes another step forward. Eleanor glances at him, and the sad look comes back on her face as she shakes her head, the movement almost unnoticeable.

Louis’ heart drops through the floor as she calls Liam’s name, and with a sympathetic glance towards Louis, hands Liam the receiver. 

Louis steps backwards again until he hits the couch, and he tries to fight the tears that sting his eyelids as he stares at the grotesque carpeting that he hates, but that Harry says has ‘character’.

He hears Liam’s words, but he doesn’t make any sense of them as his ears are filled with a loud, rushing sound. 

He won’t cry again. He won’t do it, he thinks to himself as he grips the back of the couch tighter.

When he hears Liam place the phone back on its cradle, he tells himself that he wasn’t that upset that Harry didn’t want to speak to him. He tells himself that it’s alright, that Harry’s got every right to be angry. 

“Harry’s okay.” Liam’s words hit Louis like a tidal wave.

Louis gasps out a sob as he feels his knuckles begin to turn white, and the tears finally fall as he hangs his head. He feels arms wrap around his shoulders, and his facade cracks completely as he buries his face in Liam’s chest. 

“Harry is in San Francisco. He’s visiting family, or something. He wouldn’t tell me exactly why he’s there. He’s alone, and kinda feels like he’s up shit’s creek, but he’s okay. He said we shouldn’t worry, and that he’ll be back at school on Monday.” Liam’s words are muffled to Louis’ ears, but Louis calms his breathing enough to think about what Liam said. 

“He doesn’t have any family in San Francisco, who could he be seeing in San Francisco?” Louis mumbles, rubbing a hand over his face. He’s about to push away from Liam and demand more information when he remembers.

“Oh my god. He must have found him. Why else would he be in San Francisco, there’s nobody else in San Francisco.” Louis turns around to face his friends, who are all standing, looking at him with equally confused expressions.

It’s then that Louis remembers that they don’t know, but he’s not sure if it’s his place to tell them.

So he shakes it off, straightening up, wiping his face clean of tears.

He can do it. He can handle the weekend without knowing if Harry is safe, or where he’s sleeping, or if he’s happy, or if he’s being taken care of. 

The days seem to pass like honey dripping out of a bottle. It feels like Louis is trudging through concrete as he waits for Monday to come, looking desperately for any sign of Harry’s blue car sitting in the driveway, or listening for the sound of Harry’s loud laugh echo over the room. 

He doesn’t know what he’ll do when he sees Harry again, but he knows that he can’t go on like this. He might not be able to be with Harry like he should, but he can’t not be friends with him at all. He can’t take that anymore. 

Louis is biking home from an off-season practice at twilight that Saturday when he sees Harry’s car in the driveway again.

He skids to a stop, staring at it, like it’s about to disappear in front of his eyes. His eyes fly to the house, looking for any sign of life within its windows, but he sees only curtains. 

Louis feels like all the air has been knocked from his lungs. He feels like colours have suddenly become more vibrant, that the wind is singing instead of hissing, he feels like a million pounds have been lifted off of his shoulders because Harry is _home_. 

He rushes into his front gate, pushing his bike to the side as he sprints inside, kicking his shoes off frantically as he sprints up the stairs, ignoring his sister’s calls to him.

Slamming the door behind him, he plants himself at his desk, immediately turning his lamp on. Panting slightly as he looks out his window, he is aching, pleading with god to let him see even a glimpse of Harry in the house across the street.

He sits at his desk, not daring to move, feeling like an idiot as he so blatantly stares at nothing. 

He’s about to get up, defeat creeping up into his brain when he sees Harry’s desk lamp switch on, and Louis’ face shifts into a jawbreaking grin. He feels like his head is about to explode when he sees Harry’s familiar form appear in front of the window, sitting at the desk. He can’t tear his eyes away, no matter how hard he tries.

He almost jumps out of his skin when the phone rings, and he stares at it, almost unwilling to pick it up. Taking it tentatively off the cradle, he lifts the phone to his ear.

“Hello?” his voice is soft and foreign to him, and he hears a soft sigh from the other end of the line. 

“Hi, Lou.” Harry’s voice sends chills through him, and he wraps an arm around himself. 

“Hi. Hi, god, I’m so glad you’re safe, hi.” Louis’ words tumble out of him before he can stop them, and Harry’s chuckle is quiet and dark.

“Didn’t think you’d even notice I was gone.” Harry’s voice is masked with nonchalance, but Louis knows him well enough to be able to detect the notes of hurt in his words.

Louis bites the inside of his lip and tastes the metallic taste of blood as he stares at the figure in the window.

He can imagine Harry sitting, long legs curled under him on the small chair, leaning on the desk with one arm, holding the phone with the other. He can imagine the sad smile resting on his face. 

“Harry, I noticed from the second you left the parking lot. You’re like an enigma, in the absolute best way.” Louis is moments away from breaking down and just going over to Harry’s house, banging on his door and taking him in his arms and never letting him go again.

But, he knows. He knows what needs to happen first. 

“I wasn’t honest with you. And I need to tell you what actually happened, and why I couldn’t see you anymore, and why I acted like a total tool. You don’t need to say anything or forgive me, I just need you to please understand.”

Louis’ voice is pleading, and he waits for Harry to say something. When he doesn’t, Louis continues. 

“Mark saw me come home that one night. He caught me, and he told me that I couldn’t even talk to you anymore, let alone hang out with you. He’s a terrible guy, Harry, and I couldn’t risk him finding out about us or questioning anyone about it. And I know you don’t know Mark, but everybody in this fucking town does, and if he even found out we were-”

Louis stops, suddenly feeling his throat become thick, but he swallows it away as he inhales slowly.

“I don’t even want to think of what he’d do to you, H. Every second of my life since that day, I’ve been terrified of him finding out, and finding you, and just. I couldn’t risk losing you for real.”

Louis’ words are almost a whisper, and his eyes are burning as he stares unblinking at the figure in the window across the street.

Harry is silent, and Louis doesn’t break the silence.

They sit there, the line crackling, until he hears Harry let out a shuddery sigh. 

“So, that’s it? I can just never see you again?” Harry sounds like he’s on the verge of tears, and Louis closes his eyes, his shoulders drooping.

“I don’t know. We can see each other at school, or at the record shop.” Louis keeps his eyes closed as he speaks, and he waits for Harry to speak up again. 

“Louis.” Louis hums in response. 

“Louis, baby, look at me.” Louis’ eyes fly open, and his head lifts to look at the other window, where he can see Harry, softly illuminated in the lamplight.

He stares at Harry, unable to look away after hearing those words come through the line. 

“I told you that I’d love you forever. I meant that. I don’t care if we have to wait months, or years, or move across the country, or even across the world. I want this, and I want us, and I want you. And I just- I couldn’t believe that you could really let us go like that. I was so scared, Lou. I couldn’t imagine losing you. Not after all this.”

Louis’s mouth falls open in a soundless gasp, and he feels the warmth return to his stomach at Harry’s words. 

“This is going to be hard, Louis. We knew it would be. This town isn’t good for us, but you’re going to be out and gone, so soon, and it’ll get better. We can make this work, I want to make this work so fucking bad, Lou, just please, please.” Harry’s words are rushed, and edging closely to panic, and Louis can hear the desperation in his voice now, all the nonchalant coolness gone, with only vulnerable, open Harry left. 

“Louis, please say something.” Harry whispers over the line, and Louis swallows again. 

The thing is, he doesn’t have the right words to say.

He wants to scream at Harry, tell him to get as far away from here as he can, tell him to leave him behind and live his best life in a place that will love him, just like he’s played in his head over and over again.

He wants to tell Harry that he’ll sneak to see him every night, Mark be damned.

He wants to tell Harry that he will take him around the world if it means that Harry would get to see all the beautiful things he deserves to see. 

He remembers the night he stood on Harry’s porch, all those months ago.

He remembers how the moon had made Harry’s eyes change colour, he remembers the pyjama pants that Harry wore that were just an inch or two too short, he remembers the smell of the air around them as he looked up at the face he wanted to see forever.

“I’ll take you to the ends of the Earth, Harry.”


	21. ‘Take Me Home Tonight’ - Eddie Money

_ _ _ 

They meet in the record shop that night, long after their telephone conversation. Louis knew that Mark was out of town doing deliveries, and that his mother didn’t have an early shift the next day.

When he had closed the front door behind him, he had felt the thrill in his chest that he had missed so much. 

The minute Louis had appeared in front of the record shop, Harry had the door open, his body silhouetted in the dim light coming from the shop. 

Louis doesn’t stop walking forward when he sees Harry, choosing instead to pull Harry towards him, twisting his fingers in Harry’s tangled curls, connecting their lips together.

Louis feels Harry’s arm wrap around him tightly, his rings lightly touching the exposed skin on Louis’ back, fingertips dancing across his waist. 

Louis barely registers the door closing behind him before Harry is pressing him against the door, their bodies flush together now.

Louis’ eyes flutter as Harry’s lips make their way across his jawline and down to his neck, and he tightens his grip on Harry’s hair as he feels Harry’s teeth graze across his skin. 

“Never fucking leave me again. Please.” Louis’ plea comes out as a tight, slightly strangled whisper, and Harry meets Louis’ gaze, his green eyes dark and wide. 

“Never let me leave again.” Harry’s voice is deep, and sends a tremble through the pit that is Louis’ stomach. 

Louis moves his hand to cup the back of Harry’s neck, and tugs his head forward to kiss him again. They stay there for a few moments longer, kisses growing deeper as their breathing becomes shallower.

Louis’ breathing stops for a moment when he feels Harry’s hand slide underneath his shirt, stroking the skin on his stomach.

He pushes himself closer to Harry, letting his hand drift down to Harry’s arms, and then to Harry’s chest, where he feels Harry’s silky, half buttoned shirt underneath his palms. 

Never disconnecting their lips, he deftly unbuttons the few remaining buttons that were left, and Harry smirks against Louis’ lips, shrugging the shirt off of his shoulders as he tugs at the hem of Louis’ hoodie. 

Louis leans away from Harry then, and stares at the boy standing in front of him, who he just noticed seemed an inch or two taller in the few weeks they’d been apart.

Harry, with his hair that is sending shadows over his face, Harry, with his tattoos, Harry, with his beautiful emerald eyes. 

“I love you.” The words fall from Louis’ lips before he can stop them, and he watches the younger boy’s face shift into a fond glance as he cups Louis’ cheek in his hand. 

“Take your clothes off, Louis.” Louis swallows tightly at Harry’s quiet words, but he feels the intent behind them as he tugs his sweatshirt over his head. 

He hears Harry let out a breathy moan, and smiles to himself as he disentagles himself from the warm fabric.

No sooner had his sweatshirt hit the ground than Harry pressed his hands to Louis’ cheeks, hotly joining their lips together as he fumbled with the button on Louis’ jeans. 

Tripping over each other’s legs as they move to the couch, Louis slides his fingers inside the waistband of Harry’s ridiculously tight pants (which juxtapose with the intense flare on the bottom), earning a soft hiss as he presses into the soft skin.

Harry falls over the arm of the couch, tightly clutching Louis against him, and Louis laughs as they settle, Harry letting out a groan as Louis lands on top of him. 

They stare at each other for a few seconds.

Harry softly brushes Louis’ hair to the side, and Louis feels his eyes crinkling fondly as they’re inclined to do. 

The next few minutes seem to pass by in a blur, but simultaneously in slow motion. They don’t speak, the only sounds in the room being the quiet ticking of the clocks on the walls, the clicking of the buttons on their jeans brushing together, and the muffled sounds of their breathing. 

Louis is the first to completely strip of his clothing, the rough material of Harry’s pants scratching at his thighs as he straddles Harry’s hips, running his hands up and down Harry’s chest as he leaves a mark directly over his heart. 

Harry is gripping him tightly, fingertips digging into Louis’ back, and a thrill runs down his spine as he thinks about the bruises that will be there by this time tomorrow. 

“You’re so beautiful, Louis.” Harry’s voice is hushed, reverent, and Louis looks up at him again.

Harry’s face is emotionless, eyes wide, and Louis’ lip quirks up into a lopsided smile. 

“You’re the beautiful one, H. I’m just Louis.” Louis shrugs, scratching at his collarbone as his cheeks begin to burn under Harry’s intense gaze.

Harry huffs, sitting up, Louis slightly falling backwards to lean against the grip of Harry’s hands, still pressed tightly into his back. 

“You’ve never been ‘just Louis’. Do you not realise how absolutely breathtaking you are?” Harry doesn’t break eye contact as he speaks, words surrounding Louis like honey. 

“Every second I look at you, you take my breath away. Every single thing you do is beyond the realm of my comprehension. Have you ever stopped to consider how you look on that soccer field? It’s like the gods created you especially to show the rest of the world how absolutely insignificant we are.” Harry squeezes Louis a little tighter, Louis squirming under his touch with a snort.

“I’m serious, Louis. You’ve never been anything less than spectacular.”

Louis stares at Harry, who is watching him steadily. 

“Those are a lot of grownup thoughts for such a young guy.” are the words that end up coming out of his mouth, and Harry laughs loudly, his head falling back against the couch as he grins. 

“Jesus, I love you.” Harry stares at the ceiling as the laughter bubbles from his chest, and Louis bites his lip, leaning down until his face is positioned over Harry’s. 

“My name isn’t Jesus, it’s Louis. I thought we just talked about this.” Louis whispers cheekily, and places his lips back on Harry’s, their lips messily connecting as they laugh. 

Harry would say Louis’ name a lot that night. 

He would whisper Louis’ name as Louis’ fingers traced the muscles of his stomach, he would moan Louis’ name as Louis kissed the insides of his thighs.

Harry would sink pliantly under Louis’ touch, and would respond to Louis in the most glorious, incredible ways, obedient and eager. 

Louis would fall apart under Harry’s lips later, seeing stars as his fingers knotted themselves in Harry’s hair, head rolling back against the floor of the record shop, the rough carpet leaving a burn on his bare back as he loses track of time. 

They lay together after, naked on the ground, wrapped in one of the blankets that had been strewn around.

Louis’ head is on Harry’s chest, being lulled to sleep by the rhythm of Harry’s breathing as soft sunlight begins to creep in through the window.

Harry is tracing patterns on Louis’ back with one hand, the other clasped around Louis’ hand where it rests on his stomach. 

“We should go home soon.” Louis cheek vibrates as Harry’s words rumble through his ribs, and Louis sighs, tucking himself closer into Harry’s side.

“I think we could stay.” Louis keeps his eyes closed as he mumbles, and Harry chuckles quietly, and Louis can feel Harry’s lips against the top of his head. 

“Okay. We’ll stay.” Harry tightens his grip around Louis, who smiles against Harry’s chest. He inhales, the familiar ‘Harry’ scent of lavender and vanilla, mixing with the barely noticeable scent of sweat. It’s familiar. It’s safe. 

Louis falls asleep with visions of a disheveled Harry playing in his mind.

They’re woken a few hours later by groans and loud laughter, and the pummelling of couch cushions.

“You guys are _sick,_ we sit here! We’re going to have to wash every inch of this place.” Liam’s complaints are met with howls of laughter from Zayn, who Louis can now see from between the crack in his eyelids as he scowls at his friends. 

He can feel Harry’s body shake with laughter, and Louis grunts as he tugs the blanket up to his shoulders. “Nice to see you guys too.” Harry keeps a hand on Louis’ shoulder as he sits up, and Liam groans again.

“Are you guys _naked_? For fucks sake, Louis.” Liam covers his eyes as he reaches for their clothes blindly, and Zayn tosses Harry’s shirt at him with a grin. 

“C’mon Liam, we always had a feeling that Harry’s an exhibitionist, it’s about time that he got Louis to join in the fun.” Zayn plops down on the now cushionless couch as he speaks, and Louis sighs, opening his eyes fully.

“What does a growing young man have to do to get a good night’s sleep around this place?” he grumbles, and Liam scoffs. 

“Maybe don’t sleep with your boyfriend in a fucking record shop? Jesus, Louis.” Liam throws more articles of clothing at the two of them, Zayn looking on gleefully.

“You’re so lucky Eleanor didn’t come with us, she would have-”

“She would have what?” Louis’ eyes fly open as he hears a feminine voice come from the doorway, and he clutches the blanket to his chest. Harry glances at him, eyebrow raised. 

“Are you okay?” Harry’s voice is cautiously soft, recognising the reason for Louis’ panic, and Louis looks at him for a moment before nodding, leaning forward to grab his sweatshirt from where it’s lying by his feet.

“Harry! You’re back! I’ve missed you, how was-”

Eleanor’s words are cut off as she takes in the disheveled room around them, and Harry smiles at her sheepishly. 

Eleanor blinks for a moment, and smirks. “Have fun last night?” she raises an eyebrow in Louis’ direction, and he feels his cheeks flush as he shrugs.

She changes the topic of conversation then, gathering loose couch cushions as she asks Harry about San Francisco, and Louis quickly tugs the rest of his clothes on under the blanket as Harry lounges next to him, not an ounce of concern for the state of his nakedness. 

It was only after Eleanor had gestured for him to hand her the blanket did Harry pull his pants on, Eleanor turning away with a roll of her eyes and a chuckle. 

Louis sits quietly, a small smile on his face as he watches his friends. Liam is still going on about the state he found them in, with Zayn following him with his eyes, an uncharacteristic grin still tugging at his cheeks, and Eleanor is listening to Harry’s tale of San Francisco, rapt in attention. 

Harry turns to glance at him then, his still slightly swollen lips quirking up into a smile. Louis winks back at him, nudging him with his knee, a wordless ‘I love you’. Harry’s smile grows for a moment, until he turns back to Eleanor.

Louis loves him.

Louis loves him so much.

And from now on, anywhere Harry is, or ever will be, is where Louis will be too.


	22. ‘Keep On Loving You’ - REO Speedwagon

_ _ _

Harry's been home for almost a week, and Louis' felt like he's been floating on air. They've been extra careful, being sure to keep their distance at school or when they hung out with the rest of their friends in public.

Louis would go to Harry's house less, but they'd stay up till all hours, quietly talking to each other on the phone to try and make up for it.

They'd still meet at the record shop constantly, and if it was a weekend you'd be hard pressed to not find Louis and Harry there (in various stages of undress).

However, there is another matter of pressing consequence that has been plaguing Louis: Harry's birthday. 

It was coming up in a few short days, and once again, Louis is absolutely clueless on what to get him. Harry had been adamant that Louis didn't need to get him anything, but Louis had dragged Liam to the shopping mall an hour away just to try and find something.

Louis is fidgeting with a slightly gaudy gold wristwatch with a small scowl on his face, anxiously gnawing on his lip as he walks through the jewelry section of one of the stores, full to the brim with bright colors, flashy signs, and pumped in music.

He is at such a devastating loss for what to do, and he is minutes away from giving up and resigning himself to the title of Worst Boyfriend Gift Buyer Ever.

With a sigh, he places the wristwatch back on the shelf and turns to look for Liam. Shuffling his feet on the tile flooring, he absently drags his fingers across a display case, feeling the cold glass under his fingertips as he listens for Liam's familiar voice.

He catches sight of him near the store entrance, and as he lifts his hand to wave, his fingers get caught in a box on the counter.

With a soft thud, the box falls to the floor, the contents spilling, and Louis curses softly.

Bending down to pick up the decorated box, he blinks as he sees the small, gold necklace on the floor. Picking it up, he stares at it, taking in the delicate gold medallion hanging on the chain.

It's reminiscent to the St. Christopher's necklace that Harry had given him all those months ago, that Louis has kept hanging next to his bedside.

Small and oval shaped, it's engraved with an image that Louis can't make heads or tails of. It's unlike anything Louis has seen in this store, and seems out of place here.

Rubbing it between his fingers, he straightens up, staring at it as it seems to gleam under the shitty shopping mall fluorescents.

"Louis, please tell me you found something. I am so ready to get out of here, I feel like I'll start wearing real colors if we stay any longer." Liam's voice startle Louis, who tightens his grip on the necklace and looks up at Liam.

Liam raises an eyebrow, gesturing to the box in Louis' hand. "Is that it?"

Louis looks back down at the chain in his hand, and a small smile tugs at his lips. "I think so."

Liam groans in relief, and starts chattering about this and that as they walk to the checkout. Louis can't stop touching the etchings on the gold piece, the swirls and symbols foreign to him, but he knows that Harry would love them, putting his own meaning in every tiny detail.

The rest of their mall trip passes quickly, as they bump into some classmates while waiting for pretzels.

When Louis is asked how Harry is, he sees Liam give him a quick glance out of the corner of his eye. But Louis is prepared with his typical 'I'm sure he's fine, glad to be back' answer that he gives frequently.

The topic of Harry is quickly brushed to the side, but the little thrill Louis still gets whenever Harry's name is mentioned lingers with him.

They play the radio loudly as they drive the winding roads back home, windows down as the cool late winter air plays with their hair. Louis looks at his best friend as he drives, really looks for the first time in a long time.

Liam's brown hair is getting longer, stubble breaking out across his face. He's growing into his nose, a sore spot that he'd hated for years, and his face is no longer as childlike as it was even a few months ago when they started their senior year.

Liam still wears his letterman jacket, but recently it's been Zayn that has commandeered it more often than not.

Louis feels like their lives are flying by now. In four short months they'd be graduating, and Louis would be shipping out to the NASL camp in San Jose for training. Liam and Zayn would be going to college, Eleanor would be taking her year abroad, and Harry...

Louis doesn't know what Harry's going to do. He wants Harry to come with him to training, more than anything. He doesn't want to let Harry out of his reach for the rest of his life, and he isn't sure he'd be able to handle the two months without him.

They'd talked about what they'd do once Louis had to leave, but they'd always brushed it off.

It registers in Louis' mind that Liam had asked him a question, and as he blinks himself back to reality he can see that Liam is watching him with a smug smirk on his face.

"Daydreaming again?" Liam teases, and Louis scoffs, repositioning himself in the leather covered cushioning of Liam's passenger seat.

"No. I'm thinking about how I can get away with never seeing you again after graduation." Louis rolls his eyes at Liam, who laughs loudly.

"You couldn't stand not seeing me ever again. What were you really thinking about?" Liam asks, his voice softer now, and Louis sighs, staring at the prettily packaged box sitting in a bag in his lap.

When the cashier had rung up the necklace, she had examined it, saying she'd never seen that medallion there before, but that it was hung on what's called a lover's chain.

Liam had crowed at that, knocking Louis in the side with his elbow, and Louis had flushed. The cashier had smiled at him, slipping the box into the bag, and as she handed it to him she said that his girlfriend is a lucky girl.

Louis had taken a moment, a million different responses in his head, but he had nodded, taken the bag from her, and with a small smile, had said "yeah, he is".

He exited the store as quickly as he could, vowing never to step foot in there again, Liam following close behind.

"I was thinking about the future." Louis' voice is softer than he had expected it to be, and he can feel Liam's eyes still on him. "What about it?" Liam asks, and Louis shrugs, staring out the window.

"Us. School. Where we'll be in 5 years. The world is changing really fast. I'm just worried we won't be able to keep up." Louis runs a finger down the cold glass, and he hears Liam hum.

"Yeah, it's changing alright. Crazy to think that if the world doesn't end by 1995, we'll be living in a whole new century." Liam drums his hands on his steering wheel, and Louis laughs, all talk of seriousness gone in that instant.

They instead talk of their plan to meet at the record shop to celebrate Harry's birthday that weekend.

They had split the cost of a cake in between the four of them, and Louis had sent the order in the bakery a few days before.

He'd never planned anything before, and he feels like he shouldn't be allowed to, but both Zayn and Liam had reassured him that nobody else knows Harry like he does. Of course, they're right.

There is a soft rain falling when they pull back into town, and when Liam drops Louis off at his house, Louis gives him a soft shove to the shoulder as they say their goodbyes. Louis waves from his front porch as Liam drives off, a smile on his face as he holds Harry's gift tightly in his hand.

The days leading up to Harry's birthday fly by, with Eleanor keeping Harry away from the record shop with school projects, shopping sprees, and food dates.

Louis can guarantee that there will be some sort of rumour flying around the school in the next week or so about her and Harry, but he can't be bothered to care.

Louis is riding his bike down the hill coming out of town on Harry's birthday, cake balanced carefully between his handlebars and a makeshift basket, when he sees Harry's car turn onto the road in front of him.

Louis' eyes widen, and he screeches to a stop, head whipping around as he looks for a place to hide the cake.

His eyes land on a bush next to the road, and he quickly slides the cake under the leaves, just in time for Harry's car to pull up next to him.

"Well, hi, stranger. Need a lift?" Harry's coy smile peers out of his driver side window, and Louis rolls his eyes, hoping for nonchalance as he steps up to Harry's car. Leaning down to lean on the door, Louis raises an eyebrow at the boy.

"Do you just pick up every random man walking down the street? You might end up in a bad situation someday." Louis reaches out to twirl his finger around a curl that had escaped from the bun on top of Harry's head, and Harry giggles.

"Only if they're cute." Harry shrugs, and Louis laughs, giving Harry's curl a final tug. "What are you doing out here on your birthday, shouldn't you have a big date to dress up for?" Louis teases, and Harry raises his eyebrow in turn.

"How did you know it was my birthday, are you a stalker?" Harry leans towards Louis, arms resting on his steering wheel.

"And I don't know about a big date, my boyfriend hasn't told me anything. It's a shame, I'm feeling benevolent in my older age. He would have gotten a nice little reward in exchange for a date." Harry's voice is sultry and low as his eyes flicker across Louis' face, and Louis finds it a little harder to breathe for a second.

"Maybe your boyfriend made plans and just forgot to tell you." Louis' voice is breathy as he stares at Harry, who is watching him with a growing smirk.

"I hope so. Why else would he be carrying a cake box from my favourite bakery?"

Louis groans at Harry's words, his head falling onto his arms.

"It was supposed to be a surprise for you. I knew I shouldn't have been in charge of this. Now your surprise is ruined, and Liam's going to be mad that we went through all this for nothing." Louis moans. Harry laughs, and Louis feels a hand ruffle his hair.

"If it makes you feel better, I can pretend that I didn't see a single thing. But we should probably get that cake out of the bush before something gets to it. Put it in the backseat, I'll give you a ride." Harry's comforting hand leaves Louis' hair then, and Louis straightens up, sighing.

"I still ruined the surprise for you. Don't you dare tell Liam about this, he'll never let me live it down." Louis moves away from the car door, and he can hear Harry's quiet chuckle as he grabs the cake box from the ground, inspecting it for any damage before sliding it into Harry's backseat, followed carefully by his bike. He hops into Harry's passenger side, and with a grunt falls into the seat.

Louis looks up, and is startled by the closeness of Harry's face, a huge grin stretching his cheeks. Louis smirks, and leans forward to press a chaste kiss to the tip of Harry's nose.

"Let's go before Liam sends out a search party for that fucking cake." Louis sighs, and Harry snickers, putting the car back into gear before pulling away from the sidewalk.

Later that night, after Louis had deposited the cake at the record shop where Liam and Eleanor were hanging decorations similar to the ones they had hung for Louis' birthday, Louis is lounging on Harry's bed while Harry sorts through clothes on his floor, clad only in his underwear.

Louis cannot help but admit that he very much appreciates the view.

Harry is worrying his lip in between his teeth, brows creased as he fiddles with the ruffles on one of his favourite shirts. Louis watches him pick up a shirt, put it down, pick up another shirt, toss it to the side, and repeat.

After a while, Louis slides off the bed and crawls up behind Harry, wrapping his arms around Harry's chest as he tucks his chin into Harry's shoulder.

"What are you doing?" Louis mumbles, pressing a kiss to Harry's neck, and Harry sighs, slumping.

"I don't have anything to wear." Harry says quietly, and Louis raises an eyebrow, his eyebrows flickering to the clothes strewn around the room.

"I see a few things." Louis pokes at the shirt lying at Harry's knees, and Harry huffs, picking it up and staring at it.

Louis watches as Harry fingers the fabric, looking at it with a barely there smile before his face clouds over, and Louis blinks as Harry throws it to the other end of the room.

"I can't wear that anymore. It doesn't fit." Harry's voice is cold as he stands, dislodging Louis' arms, and Louis watches him silently.

Harry's tall frame stood still in front of his dresser, a hand placed on the drawer knob, head bowed as his hair fell into his face.

Louis still doesn't say a word as Harry finally opens the drawer, pulling out a pair of plain, basic jeans, and tugs them on, the muscles in his back showing as he bends.

Harry opens a second drawer, and Louis can see his hand linger over a shirt made of shimmery blue material, with pearl buttons all the way down. Louis loves that shirt, especially when Harry leaves it half unbuttoned (which he is often wont to do), but Harry shoves it away, instead taking out a black t-shirt.

Louis' lips purse as Harry slips it on over his head, pushing his hair out of his face with a quick swipe.

"What are you doing?" Louis' voice is soft and questioning, and Harry looks at him with a frown. "You just asked me that." Harry pulls his hair up into a bun as he strides across the room, and Louis turns to follow him with his eyes.

"No, I mean, like, what are you doing? Why aren't you wearing the blue shirt? Or those flares you just got? You look really good in the flares, and it's your surprise birthday party, and-"

Louis' words are cut off when he sees the look on Harry's face, and he closes his mouth tightly as Harry stares at him, his expression almost unreadable, but Louis can recognise the flicker of anger in his eyes.

"Yeah, it is my birthday, so I think I can wear whatever the fuck I want to my birthday, can't I? Or would that be a problem for you, since you apparently think my own clothing choices won't be suitable enough?" Harry's words are sharp, and Louis sits, quietly stunned.

"Harry, you know that's not what I meant. You just love that shirt, so I thought-"

"Well, you thought wrong. So stop fucking asking me about it." Harry cuts him off, and stomps out of the room, and Louis can hear the bathroom door slam.

Louis stays, still on the floor, staring silently at the clothes strewn about. One by one, he starts picking up the clothing, and folds them, setting them in piles on the floor.

He can hear Harry come back in, but he doesn't say a word as he neatly folds a bright, floral print shirt and places it on top of the other shirts.

"I'm sorry for yelling, Lou." Harry's quiet voice comes from behind him, but Louis doesn't turn around, choosing only to nod as he folds yet another shirt. He hears Harry sigh, and walk forward to sit on the bed.

The bed creaks under his weight, but Louis still doesn't look at him, now folding a white flowy top with lace around the neckline.

They stay silent, the only noise being the sounds of kids playing coming from the open window, the quiet buzz of the television downstairs, and the shuffle of fabric as Louis continues to fold.

When Louis gets to the last shirt, he picks up the stacks and stands, moving to put them into the drawers when he feels a hand on his arm.

"I'll take them." Harry gently pulls the pile out of Louis' hands, and Louis shrugs, bending to grab the second stack from the floor.

As they put the clothes away, neither of them speak, and the air is slightly tense when they finish.

"We should probably head over." Louis says, grabbing his jacket off of the bed, and Harry watches him, nodding.

They walk down the stairs together, Louis' fingers itching to grab for Harry's, but he keeps his hands to himself. They wave goodbye to where Anne sits in the living room, and Louis sticks his hands in his pockets, feeling the small, wrapped box that's been waiting there since the day he bought it. 

Harry fiddles with the radio knob as they drive, and Louis stays quiet, looking out the window at the dark streets. Harry gives up with the radio after a minute, and sighs, his hands dropping onto his steering wheel.

They drive without speaking, until Louis pipes up.

"Why would you ever think that I don't think your clothing choices are suitable? I think your clothing choices are great. I love them." Louis can't stop the hurt from creeping into his voice, and Harry sighs again.

"I didn't mean it like that, Louis." Harry's voice sounds tired, and Louis turns to face him, eyebrows furrowing.

"Then how did you mean it? It's not like I've ever told you to not wear something. Except for that one furry thing, but I don't-"

"Louis, stop. I just didn't feel like looking like a damn fairy today, alright? Like shit, you are the most normally dressed kid I've ever met, and you're walking around with some dude in a lacey buttondown.

I just wanted to look like a normal fucking teenager and not have to worry about getting my ass beaten for one day out of the year, or yours for even being seen with me." Harry slams his hands on the steering wheel as his sentence concludes, and Louis stares at him wordlessly.

"Have you- did someone say something to you? Recently? Here?" Louis' voice is low, and Harry scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Louis, everyone is always saying something. Here I am, the new kid with long hair and tattoos that are probably illegal, in a senior English class, talking to senior girls, wearing some weird fucking getup." Harry scoffs, eyes dead set on the road in front of them before continuing.

"Do you honestly think that people wouldn't keep talking about me? Nothing ever happens here, and I'm the perfect target for everyone."

Harry's words begin angrily, but as he finishes, his words sound more pained than angry. Louis wants to reach out and take him in his arms, but he stays still for the rest of the drive.

When they park in front of the record shop, Harry sighs, finally turning to look at Louis.

"I just want to try to be normal for a while. That's what I want for my birthday." Harry meets Louis' eyes as he speaks, and Louis blinks.

"What exactly do you want?" Louis is confused, and wants to give Harry the world. He can see Harry's sad smile now, and he wants to kiss it away for the rest of his life.

"For you to let me."

Louis follows Harry into the record shop quietly, smiling as Liam and the others shoot off their poppers, and Harry laughs, hugging them all tightly.

Nobody says anything about Harry's choice in clothing, and when it comes time to open gifts, Harry opens his present from Eleanor that Louis knows is an absolutely beautiful scarf, Italian made, imported late last year through her father's company.

Harry hugs Eleanor tightly, and Louis sees the excited light in Harry's eyes dim as he looks at the scarf lovingly before tucking it back into the box, closing the lid with a sense of finality.

Louis keeps the necklace in his pocket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello loves <3  
> another update in an extremely untimely fashion! i hope you enjoy this chapter, and as always, leave a kudos and a comment 
> 
> all the love 
> 
> ~a


	23. ‘Radio Ga Ga’ - Queen

_ _ _

Louis is in the farthest corner of the library, chewing on his pencil as he's hidden behind a bookshelf.

He's supposed to be studying for an exam in science, but he can't stop thinking. Not about any one 'thing' in particular, because his whole brain seems to be a massive jumble of 'things'.

Harry hasn't worn a single frilly item in weeks. He's been seventeen for almost a month, and within that month Louis has seen him wear two items from his old closet.

Louis had heard the reactions from their classmates when Harry had walked into class for the second, third, fourth days in a row without anything unusual involving his clothing.

(Not that Louis was actively trying to listen more to what people may be saying about Harry.

Not that Louis had confronted one of his classmates for making an off-colour remark once already.

Not that Louis has felt like he's needed to walk Harry to and from every class each day, which Harry immediately shot down.

Not that Louis' done any of this.)

The teasing whispers of "maybe it's just laundry day" and "I guess the theatre department let him go" turned into "maybe he isn't a fag after all" and "I think he's much hotter in normal clothes", and then they turned into nothing as the weeks went on.

People have started coming up to Harry at the lunch table, bearing notes or party invitations, or even just a general conversational topic, and Harry accepts them graciously, occasionally clapping hands with someone or nodding and smiling at another.

Louis hates them all.

He hates that they've changed Harry. He hates that Harry is scared, and not even for himself, but for Louis. Louis practically runs this school, still getting starry eyed freshmen coming up to him and asking for him to sign their conference pamphlets, or teachers giving him special attention in classes.

If anyone needs to be worried or scared, it's not Louis.

Sometimes Louis will watch Harry from across the room of the one class they have together. Harry laughs with his group partners, listens attentively to the teacher, does his homework with precision and perfection.

But he doesn't have that same spark that he used to, the spark that brought beautiful, intelligent conversation to the hour, the spark that would send laughter through the class.

Louis still hasn't given Harry the necklace. He doesn't want it to sit in its box, or on a dresser. Harry knows that Louis can't wear the necklace that he got him, but Harry?

Harry should be able to wear whatever he wants whenever he wants, and Louis knows that now Harry wouldn't be wearing a necklace any time soon.

Louis sighs, taking one final bite of his pencil eraser before looking back to his science text.

This section was all about human anatomy, and looking at the reproductive system wasn't exactly the most appealing thing he could think of doing with his afternoon.

He glances at the diagram of the male anatomy, and he feels his cheeks heat up as he remembers two nights ago, long after everyone had gone to sleep, when he had complained about never being able to remember all the names for the different organs, and how he'd completely fail the exam.

Harry had smirked at him, and two hours later, Louis was sure to never be able to forget at least a few different organs.

Louis is startled out of his musings by a hand clapping on his shoulder, and he grips at his chest as he blinks at Zayn, smirking devilishly at him from where he's now perched on the table in front of Louis.

"What the fuck, Zayn?" Louis groans, and Zayn laughs, earning a shush from a student across the way.

Zayn rolls his eyes, and takes out a brown paper package from inside his (or, upon further inspection, Liam's) jacket. "I made you something. We had a workshop today, and I figured that I may as well use up some scraps." Zayn leans back on his hands as Louis holds the lightweight package in his hands, wary.

"The last time you made me something it was a fabric jockstrap." Louis deadpans, and Zayn grins.

"No, trust me, this is actually a good gift. I did a pretty good job, if you ask me." Zayn shrugs, and Louis sighs, looking back at the package.

He tears the paper, and his eyes widen as he sees colourful fabric facing brightly up at him.

As he takes the fabric out of the paper, he sees multicoloured stripes of varying patterned fabrics sewn horizontally together, the stitching impeccable. He touches the stitches with his finger, and looks up at Zayn.

"Is this supposed to be a... gay flag?" Louis whispers, and Zayn shrugs again.

"Yeah. They're calling them pride flags, now. I figured that you'd have a hard time keeping a real one around your house, so I made you one. It's reversible, so you can hang it. The school colours are on the other side. Our school is a kinda shitty thing to share a flag with, but it'll do the trick."

Louis stares down at the small flag, hardly a notebook sized piece of fabric, and he takes in the cherry red checkered fabric, the deep royal blue that he recognises from the cheerleading costumes, the soft green that reminds Louis of Harry's eyes, and yellow that is more like gold, and is silky smooth to the touch.

"That gold bit is from Harry. One of his old shirts, I guess. He's got it in his flag too." Zayn's words send Louis' eyes flying to meet his friend's eyes. "This is from Harry's shirt?" Louis' voice is low, and Zayn nods.

"Yeah, he was really insistent I put it in there. I was originally gonna do this other yellow that was nice, had little swirls on it, but it didn't seem very 'you'. I used it in Liam's and mine." Zayn smiles at the mention of Liam, but Louis chooses not to dwell on it as he looks back to the flag.

The longer he looks at the fabric, the more he recognises the material. It's from a shirt that Harry didn't wear often, but that he wore enough for Louis to recognise.

He felt like if he brought it closer to his nose, he could still smell Harry's scent lingering on it.

One of Zayn's words stuck with Louis, and he looked back at Zayn. "Why are they calling it a pride flag?" Louis tucks the fabric back into the brown paper, and Zayn gives him a slightly confused smile.

”Cause you're supposed to be proud of who you are. Like, with the American flag, and they spew all that 'American Pride' bullshit, but this is actually something to be proud of." Zayn raises his eyebrows at the mention of the American flag, and Louis snorts.

"I've got to scram so I'm not late for my last period. How long are you here for?" Zayn swings his backpack over his shoulder as he stands, and Louis checks the clock on the wall. "Another half hour. I've got a free period after study hall." Zayn groans at Louis' words.

"Perks of being a school favourite, you lucky bastard. Let's get food after school, I've got to talk to you about some stuff. And then we can go to the shop." Zayn calls over his shoulder to Louis as the bell peals loudly, and Louis waves at him, smiling before he turns back around to where the flag is still sitting, wrapped haphazardly in its brown paper.

Louis sighs, picking it up again, and after a moment, stuffs it in his backpack.

"What is this? It's kind of ugly." Louis turns from where he's sitting at his desk to face his sister, and feels the blood leave his face as he sees her sitting next to his backpack, holding the flag as she inspects the fabrics.

"Don't touch that, give it to me." Louis flusters, and snatches it from her, balling it up in his hands.

Lottie looks at him, an eyebrow raised. "Is that one of... those... flags?" she asks hesitantly, and Louis blinks. He inhales, and holds his breath for a moment, then exhales, nodding as he drops his eyes to his feet.

He hears Lottie scoot forward on the carpet, and she places her hands on his knees.

"I don't care, Lou. I was reading Vogue the other day and they talked about the flags and stuff. You know I won't tell anyone, I'm good at keeping secrets." Lottie's bright blue eyes, so similar to his own, stare up at him, and he feels his eyes sting as he chews on his lip.

"You can trust me, Louis. I promise. I still haven't told anyone about you and Harry holding hands on the couch that one time." Louis blinks, and stares at her. "That was months ago,” is the only response he has, and Lottie shrugs.

"Doesn't mean I'll tell. So does this mean that Harry's your boyfriend or something?" Louis sputters at Lottie's blunt question, and he stands, striding towards the closet.

"No, no, he's just my really good friend, and he's- he's-"

Louis can't find any more words, and Lottie stays silent. Louis hangs his head at the pang he feels in his chest, and he squeezes his eyes shut.

"You can't tell mom. Or Mark. Or the other kids. Or anyone." Louis says quietly, and he feels a small hand grab his.

"You guys are safe with me, Louis. I'm not a baby anymore." Lottie leans her head on his bicep as she squeezes his hand, and the tears that were threatening to appear earlier finally do, dripping down his cheek as he pulls her into a hug.

"Love you, Charlotte." he presses a kiss to her blonde hair as she hugs him tightly. "Love you too, Louis. Don't call me Charlotte, I'll kick you." Lottie pinches him as she speaks, and Louis releases her with a laugh.

Lottie moves to exit the room, and she stops at the doorway, turning back to face him.

"You should hang the flag up. Just have the other side facing out." Lottie says matter-of-factly before leaving the room, her footfalls on the stairs thudding back at Louis.

Louis stares at the flag, still clutched in his hand, and he chews on his lip for a few seconds more before stepping back to his desk, taking out two thumbtacks.

Positioning the flag over his desk, next to the St. Christopher's, he takes one last glance at the rainbow before flipping it over, the blue and maroon crest facing out at him.

Pinning it to his board, his fingers linger on the flag, his heart fluttering.

He's still never really come to terms with it all. He knows how he feels, he knows who he's attracted to. He has a boyfriend, for shit's sake.

But he's never called himself by that title.

The word still has such a nasty taste in his mouth. It's been drilled into his mind for so long that it's not normal, or that he'd die from AIDs or some other scary disease if he touched another man like that, or that people like that should go to jail, or that they're freaks or chemically imbalanced or all these awful things.

Why would he want to associate himself with that? Why would anyone?

His fingers drop from the flag, and his eyes drift to the necklace hanging next to it. 

His mind flashes to the day Harry gave it to him. He remembers Harry's green eyes, how they flickered in the dim record store light. He remembers his speeding pulse as Harry brushed his skin.

He thinks about every single time after that, when Harry would look at him, or touch him, or kiss him.

Sitting down on his bed, he stares at the necklace.

He supposes that this is his moment of reckoning, now. Today, of all days, to finally come to terms with the fact that he, Louis Tomlinson, is gay.

He's a gay man, and he's in love with a man, and he's... happy.

He's happier than he's ever been in his life, even though almost everyone around him would be against him if they knew who he really was.

Louis unhooks the necklace from the tack in the wall, and lets it dangle from his fingers. Rubbing the silver saint etched into the front, he flips it over his neck, and attaches it with some difficulty. The weight of the cold metal against his skin settles him, and he tucks it inside the neck of his shirt.

He looks to his desk, where Harry's gift is still sitting in its box, wrapped in a white ribbon.

Standing, he picks up the small box carefully, adjusting the ribbon that had gone crooked. The fact of the matter is that Louis doesn't care if Harry never wears it, or tosses it in the dresser drawer to never be seen again.

Louis wants Harry to have the necklace, and make up stories about the swirls and the etching and every single little last intricate detail, and Louis wants Harry to know that Louis loves him and every little last part of him, and Louis wants Harry to have every single last part of him.

Louis grabs his jacket as he races out of the room, flying down the stairs. He can hear his mother in the kitchen, but he doesn't stop as he slides into his shoes and pulls open the front door.

He sees Harry's front door open as he approaches, and Louis can see that Harry is wearing Louis' soccer sweatshirt. Louis feels his stomach flip flip thinking about his last name on Harry's back, and he comes to a stop in front of Harry, who is smiling down at him.

"I have a gift for you. Can I come in?"

Harry wears the necklace every day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello my lovelies <3 
> 
> it’s an end of an era for this fic. gone are the days of highschool romance, and onto the days of collegiate angst. 
> 
> i hope you’re ready for a very special someone in the coming chapter(s). i’m so excited for you to meet him. 
> 
> all the love always 
> 
> ~a


	24. ‘Jack and Diane’ - John Mellencamp

_ _ _

Louis wipes the sweat off of his forehead as he glares at the goal net a few paces away. Standing in the muggy May heat, he feels the sun beat down on his bare arms as he takes aim, and with a solid 'thunk' sends the soccer ball straight into the center of the goal.

He smiles as he hears clapping from behind him, and he turns to see Liam approaching with a smirk.

"Getting your extra hours in, Cap?" Liam tosses a water bottle towards Louis, who catches it with a grateful nod.

"More or less." Louis sighs as he sprays his face with the semi-cool water, and Liam hums. Louis wipes his face again, squinting in the sunlight.

"What are you doing hanging around here on a weekend? Don't you and Zayn have somewhere to be, like an art show or something?" Louis sits on the grass, and Liam joins him, shrugging.

"He had to finish up his portfolio before finals are due. He didn't want me distracting him." Liam smiles sheepishly, and Louis rolls his eyes.

He knows how that goes. Harry had forbade him from coming over until he was done with his study guides, and it was currently driving Louis crazy.

Every night he'd call, begging just to see him for a few minutes, but Harry had shut him down every time, saying that they both had studying to do.

"Guess we're just two jock asshole boyfriends stuck out in the wild. Absolutely nothing has changed. What a life." Louis grumbles, sending a kick towards a stray soccer ball, and Liam chuckles.

"What a life, indeed."

The unspoken words sit like dead weight between them.

They graduate in a week, and Louis was almost entirely packed for his two month stint in San Jose. Everything they've ever known, every form of regularity is going to be stripped from them in just seven days.

Louis and Liam have known each other since they were in diapers.

Their parents went to highschool together, they got married within months of each other, they've always lived within ten minutes of each other.

Louis' childhood was filled with dinners at Liam's, with his older sisters being a strong juxtaposition to Louis' younger ones.

Now, everything normal seemed to be too quickly slipping from their fingers.

"Hey, did you know that El accepted that scholarship offer in New York for when she's done in Italy? She's been all excited about it, I feel like her head is gonna fall off her body." Liam shakes his head, and Louis frowns. He hadn't heard.

"I haven't heard." Louis takes another swig of water, and stands, positioning another soccer ball under his cleated foot. Liam hums, and Louis sees him stretch out on the grass in his peripheral.

"I'm sure she'll get around to telling you at some point. She's got a lot on her plate." Liam's voice is lax and sleepy, basking in the warm sunlight, and Louis sighs, focussing again on sending the ball into the net.

_Thunk_.

Louis is standing underneath his showerhead a few hours later, head hung under the stream as his eyes droop with tiredness.

He'd been outside for hours today, thinking and practising and trying anything to get his mind off of the inevitable that was to be occurring in the next week and a half.

With each soccer ball he sent into the net, he would check one thing off his mental list to worry about.

Leaving Harry.

_Thunk_.

Moving five hours away.

_Thunk_.

Disrupting his whole life for an inevitable amount of time.

_Thunk_.

Leaving Harry.

_Thunk_. 

Leaving Harry. Leaving Harry.

_Thunk. Thunk._

Louis runs a hand through his soaked hair and turns the shower off with a deep sigh. Pulling a towel around his waist, he steps out, careful not to slip on the tile. He wipes the steam away from the mirror and stares at himself.

He can feel that he'd gotten sunburned today, which means he'd be red tomorrow, which means he'd be peeling by Saturday, which means his mother will have choice words to say about the quality of her pictures.

He still has two or three study guides to finish, but as he pulls on a clean t-shirt and boxers, he can't find it in himself to do anything but collapse on his bed, hot skin cooled by the sheets under him.

If he falls asleep, he can blame it on heat exhaustion, and not his desperate need to ignore reality.

He wakes up hours later to a knock at the door. His eyes open to a dark room and a stale mouth, and he groans, rolling over with a palm pressed to his eyes. The air around him is warm, with the fan above him barely turning.

He hears the knock again, and he mumbles a 'come in' before burying his face in his pillow again.

“You didn't come down to dinner." he hears his sister's voice in the doorway, and he glaces at Lottie in the doorway, arms crossed.

"Sorry. Had a long day." Louis sighs, sitting up, and Lottie shrugs, glancing behind her before stepping into Louis' room.

"Dad's home early. Just thought you'd want to know before sneaking out tonight." Louis blinks at Lottie's nonchalant words, and he stays quiet as he looks for a comeback.

"You don't have to say anything, I only found out because I was in the bathroom when you left one time. It's not like anyone's seen you, plus, I can have your back now that I know." Lottie perches on the bed opposite Louis, who can only stare at her wordlessly. 

"How are you so cool at your young age, kid?" Louis reaches forward, patting her head, and Lottie rolls her eyes, a smile growing on her face.

"Learned everything I know from you, big brother." Lottie hits his knee gently, and Louis bites his lip.

"What am I gonna do without you when I go away?" Louis teases, and Lottie shrugs again, standing.

"Dunno. Probably go crazy. Get into trouble." Lottie winks at him before closing the door behind her, and Louis falls back against his pillow, still smiling.

It's Thursday, and Louis has just completed his last highschool final ever. When he had handed his paper in, Zayn close behind, his teacher had shaken his hand, thanking him for being a student, and Louis had felt a weird sense of pride.

He and Zayn had walked out of class, arms wrapped around each other's shoulders, and they're heading to their lockers when they hear a loud whoop from the other end of the otherwise empty hallway.

They turn as they see Liam running at top speed down the hallway, a huge grin on his face.

"We're fuckin' done, boys!" Liam skids to a stop, wrapping his arms around Zayn as he passes, and Louis raises his eyebrows as Zayn giggles ( _giggles_ ) and follows suit, dangling his arms around Liam's neck.

Louis turns away, feeling slightly uncomfortable as he sees the mushy look that appears on Liam's face at Zayn's obviously positive reaction, and he fiddles with the lock on his locker.

"How did your finals go?" Liam asks Zayn from behind Louis' back, and Louis forces himself not to smirk as he hears the quiet fondness oozing from Liam's words. Zayn hums, and Louis can hear the ruffle of fabric and leather.

Rolling his eyes, he steels himself for whatever he'd see if he turns around, but when he does all he sees is a normal scene, Zayn and Liam watching him with smiles on their faces.

The only difference is that now, Zayn has Liam's letterman jacket wrapped snugly around him.

"Let's get the fuck out before they find a reason to keep us here forever." Liam bounces on the balls of his feet, and Zayn shakes his head, smiling softly as he follows Liam closely.

Louis watches them for a moment, and a feeling of happiness settles in his stomach.

Glancing at his now empty locker, he slams it one last time before jogging after his friends, never once looking back.

Louis squints in the bright sun, adjusting the graduation cap on his head as they stand on the football field after graduation.

His mother shouts directions at him and Liam, who is nowhere near as uncomfortable under a camera lens as Louis. Liam's parents are watching them too, Karen wiping tears from her eyes as she waves at them.

"Hey, boys. Sorry, I couldn't get away from all my family." Louis sighs in relief as Zayn appears next to him, slinging an arm over Louis' shoulders in a quick pose.

"Thank fuck, I was about to send out a search party." Louis teases, keeping a smile as his mother snaps more pictures.

"Have you guys seen Eleanor?" Joanna asks, and Louis winces, hoping it isn't that noticeable. Liam glances at him, shaking his head in response, and Zayn clears his throat.

"She says she'll be around later for the barbeque, Miss Jay." Zayn calls, and Joanna is appeased, directing the boy's siblings to get in the pictures now.

As the three boys become surrounded by their sisters, Louis looks over their parents' shoulders to see Harry leaning against the metal fencing, a small, proud smile on his face as he watches them. Standing next to him is Ed, who waves at the trio with a grin.

Louis feels his cheeks heat up as Harry winks at him, and he feels Liam pinch his arm. "Ixnay on the arry-hay, Lou." Liam mutters through gritted teeth, and Louis faces back to front, eyes instantly flying to where Mark is standing next to Jay, arms crossed with a small, maybe proud smile on his face.

Louis hates him. Louis really fucking hates him.

When the graduation pictures are over, families are hugged and thanked, and yearbooks are signed, Louis begs out of a family car ride by hitching a ride home with Liam and Zayn.

They walk, arms slung around each other's shoulders as they match their strides, just like they used to do when they were kids.

"Shit. Highschool's really over now." Zayn remarks when they reach the car, and Liam sighs dramatically. "I thought it would never end." He pulls the drivers' side door open for emphasis, and Zayn rolls his eyes, claiming the front passenger seat.

Louis scans the parking lot, looking for the familiar blue of Harry's car, but, with disappointment, he doesn't see it. 

Sliding into the backseat of Liam's car, he strips off his blue graduation gown with a grimace.

"They sure don't make these things breathable. Its like wearing a sack." Louis complains, balling it up and tossing it onto the seat next to him, and Zayn tuts, reaching back to take it from him.

"Louis, these things aren't cheap, you've got to make sure it lasts till at least two of your sisters graduate." Zayn carefully folds it, and Liam looks at him with a disgustingly fond smile. Louis groans, covering his eyes with his hand.

"Alright lovebirds, take me the fuck home. I've had enough of your nastiness for one day." Louis turns to face the window as the two boys in the front seat laugh, and Liam pulls out of the highschool parking lot.

"You know, I really do like you in blue." Harry murmurs, fingering the blue graduation gown that Louis had placed on top of his desk, and Louis snorts.

"Gee, didn't know that my graduation getup is what would get you going." Louis smirks, and Harry grins, shrugging.

"What can I say, I like my men with accolades, Mr. 4-Year-Honour-Roll." Harry sits himself on Louis' desk chair, and Louis leans back in bed, covering his smile by flopping his arms over his face.

Harry being able to come over to his house was a new occurrence. Mark is out of town for weeks at a time now, and Joanna reluctantly had given her okay for Harry to be able to stop by occasionally.

Mark had left almost immediately after getting back home, giving Louis a congratulatory clap on the shoulder, the twins a kiss, and grabbing his overnight duffel from the front hallway.

His mother had watched him leave, a hand raised in a wave, and Louis had to turn away from the sadness on her face. He had hidden himself in his room for a while, throwing a soccer ball at the wall with a scowl on his face.

Once Harry had come over, he'd kissed the frown wrinkles away, and Louis was better, but he still couldn't get the look on his mother's face out of his mind.

"How long do you think we have before Liam and Zayn come looking for us?" Harry says absently, staring out the window, and Louis shrugs, peeking at Harry from between his arms.

"Dunno. Twenty minutes, probably." Louis leans on his side, an impish smile growing.

"Wonder what we could do in twenty minutes?" Louis looks at his fingernails nonchalantly, and he hears the desk chair squeak as Harry stands, coming forward to kneel over Louis on the bed, his eyes sparkling devilishly.

"I could think of a few fun things." Harry leans in close, wiggling his eyebrows, and Louis sucks his lip in between his teeth as he grins, wrapping his hands around Harry's biceps.

"Could you now, young Styles? I am a graduated man now, so you may not be able to handle all this newfound manliness." Louis deepens his voice, and Harry rolls his eyes as he connects their lips.

Louis hums contentedly, wrapping his arms around Harry's neck, keeping him close when they part.

"I love you, you old graduate." Harry whispers, and Louis feels his heart do the thing it always does.

"Logically, my brain is already bigger than yours, since I'm a recent graduate of our town's fine highschool, which would also infer that my heart must also be bigger, which thus means I have to love you more." Louis puts on an exaggerated air, bopping Harry on the nose as he speaks, and Harry giggles, rolling his eyes again.

"Oh shut up, and kiss me like a graduate." Harry's voice is sultry and low, and what can Louis do but oblige?

If they come down half an hour later, hair messy and eyes glassy, nobody notices, or at least says a word.

Louis grunts in anger, shoving at his suitcase before falling onto the floor, face flushed. "Baby, you can't force stuff in there that doesn't want to go in there. Besides, you're packing like you're leaving for a year, not just two months." Harry flips the suitcase open, taking out a few shirts that Louis had crammed in there, and Louis scoffs.

"You say 'just two months' like it's nothing, and I feel like I'm going crazy." Louis grumbles, leaning against his bed, and Harry looks at him, a strand of hair falling in front of his face.

"It's not that long, Lou. When you come back we'll have more time to figure things out before you leave again." Harry's tone is oddly calm, and Louis frowns, picking at his carpet.

"When I come back I'm home for two weeks before I leave for the season, Harry. What do we have to figure out in two weeks?" Louis looks up at Harry, who is watching him, a folded shirt resting in his lap.

Harry shrugs. "I dunno. Like, where we're going to live when you come back rich and famous. Or how many rooms you want our house to have. I'm thinking five." Harry sets the shirt down next to him, and Louis feels a smile crack his lips.

"I'm not going to be rich and famous right away, H. Probably won't be ever." Louis resumes picking at the carpet, but with less anger now. Harry snorts, shaking his head.

"Are you kidding? You're going to be one of the best soccer players of all time. You'll be better than Aldo Donelli, you'll be in the books forever." Harry winks at him, and Louis rolls his eyes, his smile winning the fight.

"God, you're hopeless. Just let me wallow." Louis groans dramatically, and Harry leans forward, grabbing Louis' hand.

"Hopeless for you." Harry says sappily, pressing his lips to Louis' fingers, and Louis rolls his eyes hard, shaking his head. "Stop distracting me and help me pack, you tool." Louis shoves him gently, but yelps as Harry falls backward, bringing Louis with him to the ground.

As they land with a soft thud, Harry chuckles, pulling Louis in close before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"Fine. I'll help you. You still have a week before you leave, we can repack it later if you really are going crazy. But stop being so negative, it's hurting my aura." Harry whispers in Louis' ear, and Louis shudders softly.

As they decrease Louis' luggage into only a medium sized duffle, Louis catches Harry watching him, a small, sad smile on his face before looking away, slipping a shirt here and a pair of socks there.

The next morning, Harry shows up at Louis' front door bright and early, a grin on his face. "Are you busy for the next, I don't know, five-ish days?" Harry asks breathlessly as soon as Louis opens the door, stifling a yawn.

"Not unless you count moping and prematurely missing you." Louis raises an eyebrow, looking at Harry's bright eyes and wild curls. "What's going on with you?"

Harry shrugs, feigning nonchalance. "I just wanted to know if you'd be interested in going on a little trip with me for a few days. Just to San Francisco, nothing major." Harry shrugs again, and Louis frowns quizzically.

"I mean, of course I do. But why San Francisco, why can't we go to, like, Vegas?" Louis smirks, and Harry smiles at him.

"There's someone I want you to meet."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello again, my sweet friends!  
> so, i’ve decided not to introduce H’s friend this chapter (boo, hiss). i know. but i wanted their trip to be the sole focus of the chapter, not tagged onto the end of a filler chap.
> 
> all the love as always, and thank you <3
> 
> tpwk  
> a


	25. Summer, Highland Falls - Billy Joel

_ _ _

Louis rolls down the window of Harry’s car, closing his eyes as he inhales the smell of the slightly salty sea air. Their drive to San Francisco had been relatively uneventful, with a stop to get In-N-Out (at Louis’ request) the only pause. 

Louis looks over at Harry, who is driving with a small, absent smile on his face, his sunglasses hiding his eyes. Harry drives as if he’s driven this route a thousand times, which Louis is sure he has. 

“So, who exactly are we going to see?” Louis reaches over and grabs Harry’s hand, pulling it back into his lap to fiddle with the silver rings slipped around Harry’s long fingers. 

Harry glances at him, and his smile grows. “Someone special. Don’t worry, Lou. I think you’ll really like him.” Harry squeezes Louis’ hand as he speaks, and turns back to the road, drumming his fingers in a staccato beat on the steering wheel.

Louis watches the seaside fly by as they enter the city of San Francisco, and he can’t help his eyes from widening slightly as he sees the buildings approaching. 

As they drive down I-80, Harry begins humming under his breath, and takes an exit off of the highway. Louis watches the buildings and cars whiz past them, and Harry continues driving, the buildings getting more and more varied as they go deeper into the city center. 

“Where are we going?” Louis asks quizzically, unsure at this point where Harry could be taking them, and Harry shakes his head, grinning. “You are just about to find out.” Harry pulls to a stop in front of a large, white, round building, and Louis frowns as he reads ‘Louise M Davies Symphony Hall’, giant metal letters glinting in the San Francisco sky. 

“Are we seeing a symphony, good sir?” Louis teasingly quips as he unbuckles his seat belt, and Harry shrugs. “Maybe. Guess we’ll have to see.” Harry’s tone is genuinely serious, and Louis follows him out of the car, still slightly perplexed. 

As they walk, Harry takes Louis’ hand, twining their fingers together, and Louis falters for a moment. Harry looks back at him, and gives him a small smile. “Nobody cares here, Lou.” Harry’s voice is calm and non accusatory, and Louis swallows. 

_Well, that’s new_ , Louis thinks as he falls into step with Harry, who begins swinging their hands between them gently. They mount the stairs to enter the building, and Louis stares up at the pristine white walls as they enter through the glass doors. 

Their footsteps echo as they walk through the foyer, Harry’s boots clicking on the tile flooring. “Harry, what the fuck are we doing here?” Louis feels the need to whisper, and Harry looks down at him, bemused. “We’re meeting my friend. He should be around here somewhere.” Harry pulls Louis in the direction of two wooden doors, and Louis blinks as Harry tugs one open, the sounds of instruments pouring out from the doorway. 

“Harry, I’m not exactly dressed for a symphony.” Louis thinks of his grungy sweatpants, and his hair that’s tucked into a ratty grey beanie, and Harry smirks, tugging him through the door. It shuts behind them with a quiet thud, barely heard over the strings and woodwinds.

Louis looks around in awe, gazing up at the high ceilings and the rows and rows of chairs. The orchestra sits in front of them, tuning their instruments on a tiered stage, and Harry leads him down a row, tucking them in the corner.

The orchestra talks and laughs, their attention raptly bound to a blonde man gesturing widely in front of them. Harry’s eyes haven’t left him once since they walked in, the smile still wide on his face, and Louis shifts in his seat, antsy. 

Just then, an older man in a grey polo shirt and khaki pants walks in the auditorium through the door Louis and Harry had just come in, and he stops by where they’re sitting. 

“Mr. Styles. I didn’t expect to see you back so soon, and you’ve brought a guest.” A thick Dutch accent comes from the man, who smiles down at the two of them. Harry smiles at him, straightening in his seat respectfully. “Hello, Mr. de Waart. This is Louis.” Harry’s voice is tinged with pride as he introduces him, and Louis extends his hand for the older man to take it, shaking it firmly. 

“Ah, the infamous Louis. We meet at last. I hope you enjoy your time in San Francisco, but I feel you will be seeing much greater things in your near future.” The man winks at him before continuing on down the aisle, clapping his hands.

Louis stares at him, watching him take command of the orchestra, and he grabs Harry’s hand. “Who was that?” he asks, voice low, and Harry chuckles. “That’s Edo de Waart. He’s the musical director for the San Fran Symphony Orchestra. He basically broke in Davies, this building is only about three years old.” Harry murmurs in Louis’ ear, hooking his chin over Louis’ shoulder.

The blonde man turns around then, and a painful looking grin breaks over his face. “Harry! Hiya, bud!” the man hollers, and Harry’s own grin returns as he waves. 

“Mr Horan, you know I love having you around, but I cannot have you distracting my orchestra today. Go join your friends in the seating, please. And do it quietly.” de Waard scolds, and the man laughs, the sound echoing across the concert hall. 

“Alright, Eddy, I’m going. Play well, kids!” The man jogs up the aisle as he shouts to the orchestra, who send him off with a chorus of goodbyes, and Harry stands, keeping a hand on Louis’ shoulder. Louis takes a quick glance up at Harry’s face that is now beaming at the person approaching them.

“Well damn, Styles, I thought you wouldn’t be back until the end of the month! I would have cleaned if I had known you were coming.” the loud blonde wraps Harry in a tight hug, and Harry laughs, clapping him on the back. “Niall, I’ve got someone I want you to meet.”

Louis slowly stands as Harry turns to him, a smile warm on his face. He meets the friendly green eyes of Harry’s friend, now named Niall, and before Louis can say a word, Niall gasps, his smile somehow growing even bigger. “Fuck me, you’re Louis. I’ve heard so much about you, c’mere!” 

Louis blinks as suddenly he is wrapped tightly in Niall’s sweatshirt-covered arms, getting the air squeezed out of his lungs with a bone crushing hug. “It is so good to finally meet you, man. Every other word out of old Harold’s mouth is Louis this, or Louis that. It’s gross.” Niall grins as he releases Louis, giving him a small shake. 

Louis flushes, and Harry looks at him sheepishly. “I do talk about you a lot.” Harry admits, and Louis rolls his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips. 

“Here, we better sit before Eddy kicks us out for good. They’re working on Mahler for next season, it’s gonna be wild.” Niall gestures to the seats, and plops himself down in the seat at the end of the row, Harry and Louis following suit. 

Louis’ eyes flicker down to his hand where Harry now has a soft grip on his fingers, rubbing his thumb up and down on Louis’ knuckles. He looks back up to the orchestra with a smile growing on his face, and as the orchestra picks up, the notes ebbing and flowing around them, Louis looks to see both Harry and Niall in full captivation, their heads bobbing slightly as the music continues.

Louis is somehow unaware of time passing as the orchestra performs, carrying on until he hears de Waart’s voice again. Leaning back in his seat, he sighs, shaking his head. “That was… incredible.” Louis’ keeps his voice quiet, and Harry hums. “They never disappoint. Some of them play for the ballet too. Now that’s a show.” Harry’s voice is reverent, and Niall yawns from next to them, stretching loudly. 

“Dunno about you guys, but I could go for some food. You guys want to go get food?” Niall turns in his seat to face them, a wide smile still on his face ( _how does his face not hurt,_ Louis thinks to himself).

Niall turned out to be more of a character than Louis had ever expected him to be. 

Bright, cheery laughter burst from the boy’s chest with every other sentence, and the perpetual grin on his face never faltered. He’d laugh at Harry’s stupid jokes, he’d listen intently to Louis’ stories of soccer, and he’d watch the two of them with a gleam in his wide eyes. 

Louis liked him. He would watch Harry and Niall interact, and he noticed the way they seemed to read each other’s minds, knowing exactly what the other would do or say before they did it. 

After they had finished eating, with Niall insisting on paying (“They know me here, they’ll give me a discount. I’m their most loyal customer”, he had said with a wink in one of the waitresses’ directions), they walked slowly down the sidewalk, Louis’ hand dangling limply in Harry’s, more casual nonchalance than romantic. 

The sun is setting on the horizon, and as Louis watches, its light catches on the lightly bobbing ocean.

“You want to go walk on the beach? Nobody’s out there at this time, we can be as chaotic as we want.” Niall wiggles his eyebrows as he hops ahead, his own suggestion sending him into an excited dance, and Harry glances down at Louis. 

“What do you think, you up to watching Niall make a fool of himself for us?” Harry twists his fingers tighter in Louis’, who shrugs, smirking. 

“What am I going to do, say no?” Louis grins as he watches Niall, who is already running ahead, give a loud whoop as he stumbles onto the beach. 

Following him, Louis and Harry slip their shoes off, leaving them at the edge of the beach grass, and Louis snickers at the feeling of the slightly damp sand under his bare feet. Harry sighs from next to him, and Louis looks up. 

Harry is staring out at the ocean, the wind ruffling his hair as the warm orange light seems to bathe his face in melted gold. He looks so incredibly at peace, a small smile resting on his lips as his eyes flutter closed against the breeze.

All of a sudden, Louis finally realises. 

With the sounds of Niall splashing and hollering in the distance, the seagulls shouting from above them, the faint voices from the beachside restaurants echoing in the air, and the constant, never ending rumble of the waves on the beach, Louis realises. 

It’s in little moments like these where Harry feels safest. It’s moments like this, where no eyes are on him, where nobody is watching his next move, or where he doesn’t have to worry about saying the wrong thing or talking to the wrong person. 

Louis realises, and Louis understands. He understands why Harry would pack up and leave on a whim without letting anyone know where he’d gone. He understands the longing for something more, anything more. 

He tightens his grip on Harry’s fingers, and Harry looks down at him. 

Louis could spend a million years describing how he feels about Harry. He could sing a million songs, write a million poems, walk a million miles to be able to explain how he feels about this boy with the long hair standing next to him. 

Instead, he stretches onto his tiptoes, and plants his lips gently against Harry’s. 

When they part, Harry’s eyes are slightly glassy, and he pulls Louis closer, wrapping his arm tightly around Louis’ shoulders. 

“You have no idea how many times I’ve dreamed about you doing that on this very beach.” Harry whispers, and Louis stares out at the sun, now nestling itself behind the horizon, and he hears Niall approaching. A smile dances on Louis’ lips as Niall tumbles up to them, holding something tightly in his hands. 

“Look what I found!” Niall shoves the object towards Louis, who takes a wary step back, to the amusement of Harry. 

“It won’t bite you, Louis. It’s already dead.” Niall keeps his hand extended, and Louis peers at the thing Niall is holding. 

Louis sees a white, circular item, about the size of Niall’s palm. Seemily etched into the center is an unmistakable shape of a star, with five distinct slits along the bottom. Louis takes it from Niall, and holds it carefully in his hand. 

“It’s a sand dollar. They’re said to be good luck around here. Keep it, that one’s yours. I’ve got tons at home.” Niall brushes the sand off of his pants as he speaks, and Louis rubs his thumb against the skeleton that once belonged to some sea urchin out there, and smiles 

“Thanks, Niall.” Harry murmurs, and Louis feels a squeeze around his shoulders. 

Niall yawns loudly then, and stretches his hands into the air. “Jesus, I’m ready to sit on my couch and drink. Are you guys ready to sit on my couch and drink?” Niall grins, and Louis and Harry exchange a look, the smile on Harry’s face widening as he speaks. 

“Lead the way, my friend.”

A few hours (and many beers) later, Harry is fast asleep on the pullout couch across the living room, Niall has disappeared into his bedroom, and Louis is sitting on the fire escape outside of Niall’s apartment over the city. 

He has his hands wrapped around a slightly warm bottle of beer, and he leans against the metal railing, looking out over the flickering lights and rushing noises. There is a cool breeze still, that picks his hair up off of his forehead and disrupts it. His head is still slightly fuzzy, but it’s quickly fading the longer he sits outside.

Louis sighs, and takes a swig from his bottle. 

Niall is a fantastic host, offering them three different kinds of beer, an overwhelming amount of snacks, and the entire Rocky trilogy (“I have a guy in the city who got the VHS for me before it was even available in stores! I swear, I’ve never felt cooler in my whole damn life.”, Niall has gushed after showing Louis). 

Niall is incredibly funny, with a great sense of humor, and he obviously cares deeply about his friends, his job, and his city.

There’s still something about him that Louis can’t quite place. 

Harry mentioned New York once in passing, and Louis had noticed a dark cloud fly over Niall’s sunshiny face for a split millisecond, but then disappear as if it never existed. 

There’s still a level to Niall that Louis hadn’t cracked yet, but as he looks out over the somber city, he questions whether or not it’s that important. 

“Well, I see you found my special hiding place.” Louis blinks in surprise as a voice comes from his right, and he turns to see Niall climbing out of the window, the metal jangling quietly as his stockinged feet hit the escape. 

“It’s nice out here. You really do have a killer view, Niall.” Louis scoots over on the stair to make room for Niall, who chuckles, settling down next to Louis. “Only thing that justifies the six flights of stairs.” Niall says around a smirk, and Louis glances at over at him, who is being (as Louis can tell), uncharacteristically soft spoken.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Louis asks, extending his bottle towards Niall. He takes it with a small nod, and swirls the amber liquid around in the bottle. 

“Guess you could say that.” 

Niall knocks the rest of the beer back in a quick chug, and sets the glass bottle down at his feet, wiping his mouth with a small sigh. 

The two of them sit quietly for a few minutes, the only sounds coming from the city around them until Niall clears his throat. 

“So, I’m just going to assume Harry told you a little bit about… our past lives, I guess. Am I wrong?” Louis turns to look at Niall, who is watching him with a steady gaze, and Louis nods. “Only a little bit. He told me more about himself than you. Didn’t ask for more than he told.” Louis shrugs, and Niall hums. 

“He’s a good kid. One of the best people I’ve ever met, and I have met a shitton of people.” Niall readjusts his position on the stairs. Louis feels like he’s about to get a story, so he prepares himself to listen.

However, Niall is silent, and Louis is beginning to wonder if he’s supposed to respond when Niall speaks up again.

“We met when we were kids. I’m sure you know that story, with the whole him being gay thing.” Niall raises an eyebrow as he flicks his eyes in Louis’ direction, who nods quickly. “That was hard on all of us. When they moved, I wasn’t exactly the most popular guy in school. But I had a thick skin back then, and a good head on my shoulders. All it took was a few funny words and a party or two and I was back to being a nobody that everybody seems to like.” Niall chuckles, and Louis can sense Niall’s mood darkening. 

“I never really knew my dad, and Harry knew that. He’d call every few years to see how I was, or ask how old I was, but my mom would never engage with him more than that. She’d never married him, which meant it was just the two of us my whole life. 

But one day, maybe a year after Harry moved, my dad showed up at my door. He told me that he needed my help, and when I asked him what he needed, he said it had to do with a political thing. 

Apparently, he was part of the party that ran against Harvey Milk and his crew, and they were getting some serious backlash from certain communities.” Niall crooks his fingers around the words ‘certain communities’, and Louis understands what he means.

“Anyway. He basically begged me to move out to California with him to get involved, and help him show that his party wasn’t against our generation, or gay people, or something. Little did stupid me know that that’s exactly what it was.” Niall snorts, shaking his head as he inhales deeply. Louis waits for him to continue as he watches a somber scowl build on Niall’s face.

“Harry may say all this nice stuff about me, about how I’m always so quick to help others, and how I’m always there for people, and that’s pretty true. It’s also my biggest fatal flaw, I think. Like, I’m really fucking good at helping people, you know? People love me, and it’s just the way things have always been.” 

To some, Niall’s words may have seemed braggy or arrogant, but Louis knows that they’re just simply the truth.

“When I first helped my dad out with his schtick, everyone there seemed pretty legit. But after a while I started listening in on certain conversations, or hearing different things around the office. Turns out, some of these guys were not great dudes. 

One of them, some lawyer, was apparently trying to keep this politician from being indicted with embezzlement. He was talking about threatening this girl, and holding someone in jail until they spoke in favour of this guy, and it was just.. a lot. 

They were involved with the police too, hiding loads of criminal activity within the force. A lot of these politicians had police officers right in their pockets. A lot of bad things cooking in one kitchen, or whatever.

I didn’t mean to get as caught up in it as I did, but sooner or later I was getting photographed with these guys, getting called their ‘voice of the generation’, and all that yuppy shit. 

Long story short, these guys had me in, and I couldn’t get out without throwing off their whole operation. They took me to special meetings, they had me stand with them onstage, they had me in the public eye as much as they could so if I ever left, people would know who I was. 

If anything happened, people would know that I was involved. 

When something did happen, they were really quick to shift the blame onto the ‘young, inexperienced members of the party’, which obviously meant me and some others. 

The only way I figured that I could get out was to leave, and leave for good. So I did. I packed my shit, and I got into my car and drove away.

That didn’t work so well, because they knew my license plate, and they made the police put out a notice for my arrest on the scanners. I had to ditch my car, and essentially hitchhike to some little place in the Redwoods where a friend of mine lived. He had told me if I ever needed a place to stay, to come find him. He’s a player in the symphony, and he’s the one who got me a job.”

Niall loudly yawns then, and the aura of seriousness that had seemed to build around the two of them faded quickly away as the two boys giggle to themselves. 

“So are you, like, safe now?” Louis turns to face Niall, who shrugs, nodding. “So far, so good. Got a few ins with some people here, so if anything were to happen, I’d have somewhere to go.”

Louis can see a thoughtful smile appear on Niall’s face. “When I sent that package to Harry, I had been contacted by someone who was involved with my dad. I had no idea how that was going to end up, so I mailed him a package full of shit that I thought he’d need to have in case things went south, including the address of the hall.

He showed up one day, and my supervisor was the only one there. Apparently, Harry looked like hell, a whole mess of a kid. They tried to call me, I guess, but I wasn’t home. Harry waited in the lobby for something like five or six hours, wouldn’t say a word to anyone. 

I came in for my shift through the back door, and I almost didn’t even recognise him when I walked up. His hair had gotten so long, and he’d gotten a good four inches taller, dressed in this outfit that the Harry I remembered would only dream of wearing. The kid has tattoos, even! A shitton of ‘em.

But you’d know Harry anywhere. He’s just that kind of person. And when he finally calmed down enough to talk, he told me about how long it took to find me, and about moving around for so many years… and you.”

Louis blinks, and Niall nudges him, smirking. “He told me all about you, asshole. Why’d you even break up with him? He was very unhappy about that, almost ruined his whole visit.” 

Louis cringes, thinking back, and he sighs. “It’s kind of a long story. But I can tell you right now, it’s never happening again.” The certainty in his own voice comforts him, and Niall laughs, his head falling back as he grins up at the stars. 

“Oh, I know. You can tell there’s no separating you two, you may as well be attached at the hip. It’s gross.” Niall’s tease brings a flush to Louis’ cheeks, and Niall nudges him again.

“Hey. That’s a good thing. You’re good for him.” 

“I try to be, anyway.” Louis mumbles, and Niall snorts. “Alright, Mr Self Righteous. I’m going back inside, my back hurts. Make sure you lock the window when you come back in.” Niall claps a hand to Louis’ shoulder as he stands, and hops through the window with a wink.

Louis sits quietly for a few minutes longer, processing.

He looks to his right, into the window, and he can see Harry still asleep, the room barely lit by the still crackling TV screen. He smiles, and pushes himself to his feet, brushing his pants off as he stands.

He closes the window behind him once he climbs back through, and clicks the lock. 

Walking over to where Harry lay, he carefully slides under the blanket next to him. Harry stirs with a snuffle, and Louis wraps his arms around Harry’s middle, resting his head in the crook of Harry’s collarbone. 

Pressing a soft, closed mouth kiss to the sparrow inked into Harry’s chest, he lets his eyes close, Harry’s familiar smell and breathing lulling him into sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello there!  
> In the early 80s, a huge underground scandal occurred in America involving several prominent members of American government, including governors, politicians, secretaries, and more. However, the occurrence of the scandal did not make national headlines, most likely because it would strongly interfere with that year’s presidential election.  
> I also purposely chose not to delve too deeply into the specifics of who or what party Niall was aligned with.  
> Hope you enjoyed meeting Niall!
> 
> tpwk always, 
> 
> ~a


	26. ‘Down By The River’ - Buddy Miles

Louis yawns as they turn onto their street, and he sighs. “Well, here we are. Home sweet home.” Louis grumbles, and Harry smiles at him, tangling their fingers over the center console. 

They’d spent their time running around San Francisco, but Louis’ pending anxiety about leaving made it harder and harder for him to really enjoy their last few days. When Harry had suggested leaving a day early so Louis could get his thoughts in order, Louis had agreed.

Louis was actually sad to have left. He had hugged Niall tightly, and had promised him that he’d make sure they got out there as often as they could, and soon. 

“I think a box at some nice stadium would be nice in exchange for my hospitality and damn good hosting skills. Maybe a lifetime of free tickets to wherever your famous self ends up. We can talk.” Niall had winked, slapping Louis’ back, and Harry had smiled widely at them.

Their drive back to town was a slightly sadder one, with the two of them not talking as much as they usually do. They held each other’s hands quietly, the radio droning in the background of their thoughts. 

Now they’re home, and Louis’ slightly abated anxiety was back in full force. 

“For a few more days. And then you’re out of here, my soccer star.” Harry teasingly pinches Louis’ palm, and Louis groans. 

“For fucks sake, please stop. I’m already trying to find a way out of it.” Louis rolls his eyes, and Harry scoffs. 

“Fat chance. I’d drag you there myself.” Harry pulls up in front of Louis’ house, and Louis notices that the house is dark, and he frowns. 

It’s barely 7 o’clock, and by this time his mother should be home, or at least his sisters. Mark’s truck is notably gone from the driveway, which Louis acknowledges with relief. 

Louis is struck with an idea, and he turns to Harry with a sly smirk. “Hey.”

Harry raises an eyebrow. “Hey, yourself.” Louis unbuckles his seatbelt, and leans closer to Harry, flickering his eyes over Harry’s body as seductively as he could. “Do you want to come inside, wish me goodbye?” Louis reaches a hand over to cup Harry’s thigh, and he smiles wider as Harry inhales sharply, and nods quickly.

“Yes. Yeah, yeah let’s go inside.” Harry turns the car off in a rush, and Louis laughs at the younger boy’s enthusiasm. “Slow down, Casablanca, I’ve got to get my stuff out.” Louis pushes his door open, but Harry stops him, grabbing his hand. 

“Don’t you fucking dare. The shit can wait. Get inside, now.” Harry seems to tower over Louis as the sparkle in his eye gleams at Louis, and Louis can feel his stomach begin to bubble as he stares at Harry. “Okay.” he whispers, all his previous gusto gone, and Harry pulls him to the front door, Louis giggling as Harry kicks at the mat for the key. 

When Louis goes to unlock the door, he frowns to find the knob loose. “Weird.” he murmurs, and Harry groans impatiently. “Louis, I will literally take you on this step if you don’t open the door.” Harry growls, stepping towards Louis so their bodies are flush, and Louis laughs breathily, pushing the door open with Harry’s hand gripped tight in his. 

Louis is met with darkness, the smell of cigarette smoke, and the scent of old alcohol. 

Louis knows this smell. 

“Shit.” he whispers, and he can feel Harry freeze next to him as they see the figure seated in the living room. 

Mark is staring at them, his face stoney, eyes looking straight at Louis as he holds a burning cigarette in between his fingers. Louis feels like he’s going to vomit as he watches Mark’s eyes fall to where their hands are still connected, and a dark chuckle comes from his stepfather.

“I should have fucking known, Louis.” Mark puts his cigarette out on the armchair’s cushion, and Louis grits his teeth, squeezing Harry’s fingers tighter. 

“I should have known that you were a goddamn nancy. I should have known from the minute you walked your sorry ass into this house that night and lied to my face.” Mark scoffs, and Louis swalls tightly. 

“Where’s my mom? Where are my sisters?” Louis’ voice is low and steady, and Mark stands from his chair, a glass bottle tinkling next to him. 

“That is none of your fucking business, you _faggot_.” Mark’s words are dripping with hatred as he points a shaky finger at Louis, and Harry takes a small step closer. Mark’s glance flies to Harry, and he laughs loudly. 

“The town fairy, in my house. To what do I owe the honor? Or are you just here to fuck my own fairy of a son?” Mark is drawing closer now, and Louis can feel the anger radiating off of Mark like waves. 

Louis is terrified for what Harry is going to say. 

He’s mentally screaming at Harry to _say nothing, stay still, don’t lash out_ , but by the way Harry’s fingers are gripping his, he can tell that Harry is moments away from bursting.

He stares at Mark, the anxiety a rolling boil in his stomach, and Mark turns back to face him, his face full of disgust as his glassy, drunken eyes look Louis up and down.

“You’re a sorry excuse for a son. I can’t believe that you would dare to come into my house after whatever you did in that shithole town. What were you doing, Louis? Were you whoring around San Francisco with your other precious pillow biter friends?” Mark is so close to Louis that he could feel and smell Mark’s hot breath, and he grits his teeth as Mark continues, poking his finger into Louis’ chest. 

“Your friend Oli told me more about your girlfriend. How you left her. Why’d you do that, Louis? Did you do it because you’d rather have someone fuck you instead? Did you do it because you’d rather let some freak touch you?” A spray of spit hits Louis’ face as Mark’s words slam into him, and he feels Harry’s hand tense in his.

“Oli told you.” Louis mutters, and Mark laughs loudly, scornfully. “He told me everything. He told me all about your trips to the record shop, and about your fucking parties.”

Mark stops then, and places a hand on Louis’ shoulder. Louis can feel his fingers digging into his skin, and he steels himself against a wince. 

“Louis. I can get you help. We can make this all go away, and you can get this out of your system. We can get rid of it.” Mark shakes Louis gently, and Louis looks back up to meet his stepfather’s eyes in angry confusion.

“There’s no getting rid of this, Mark. It’s who I am, and I don’t need to get anything out of my system. Where is my mom, she-”

The world seems to slow down then.

Louis hears an angry roar, and he feels himself getting dragged down, his shoulder immediately crying out in pain. 

He hits the ground with a grimace, and he hears himself cry out as he feels a sharp pain in his chest.

“No fucking son of mine-” is all he hears before he feels the blows, pain radiating through his body as he feels them land on his face, his chest, his stomach, his back.

He tries to protect himself, but Mark’s strong, rageful grip on his arm is keeping him from moving.

He can hear Harry from behind him, and he tries to look at Harry, but Mark’s boot lands against his face then. 

Louis can feel a crack in his jaw, and his head thunks back to the floor. 

“Fuck- please, stop, _stop, you’re killing him_.” Louis can hear Harry’s sobbing screams from behind them, and Mark’s hands leave him. 

Louis forces his eyes open against the throbbing in his skull in time to see Mark’s fist land squarely against Harry’s cheekbone, and Harry fall against the door.   
“Harry, fucking go, get out.” Louis’ words feel jumbled and garbled, and he tries to sit up, but his head feels like it weighs a million pounds.

“I’m not going to fucking leave you.” he hears Harry’s shakey voice over the rushing in his ears, and he pushes himself up onto his elbow, only to feel a hand grip his bicep tightly.

He senses a presence looming over him then, and he hears a sigh. 

“You’ll never be anybody, Louis. You’re not going to survive this.” 

Mark’s dark words send currents through Louis’ stomach, and he watches as Harry pulls the door open slowly, wiping tears out of his wide eyes as he stares at Louis, chest heaving.

_Go_ , Louis mouths, and closes his eyes as he feels a fist connect with his body, and then another.

Over and over.

_Stupid._

_Worthless._

_Nothing._

_Faggot._

_Nothing._

_Pansy._

_Nothing._

_Nothing._

_Nothing._

Louis feels his mind grow fuzzier, and the pain he feels in his whole body seems to cover him like a heavy blanket.

The sounds dissipate as his mind fades slowly into darkness.

Louis is safe in the dark. 

Harry is safer with Louis in the dark.

  
  


Louis is standing in the dark.

It is silent. Completely, entirely silent.

The air around him seems thick, like a muggy summer’s day.

Louis looks to the left, and sees nothing. 

He looks to the right, and sees nothing.

Louis looks down at his body, and he sees himself. 

Louis flexes his fingers, and rolls his shoulders. 

Louis hears the familiar ‘thunk’ of a soccer ball, and he looks up.

A soccer ball is rolling towards him.

He stops it with his foot, and frowns. 

Louis kicks it gently, sending it back into the darkness. 

_thunk_.

Louis blinks as it comes rolling back towards him. 

He kicks it a little harder. 

_Thunk_.

It returns.

“Hello?” Louis yells, but no sound comes from his mouth.

He kicks the ball as hard as he can.

_Thunk_.

He stares at the darkness that it disappeared into. 

It returns.

Louis spins on his heel, and runs.

He runs until his chest feels tight, and he’s gasping for breath. 

He can’t see.

It’s dark.

Louis collapses to the ground, breathing heavily as he braces his palms against whatever the ground is made of.

_Thunk_.

Louis turns slowly.

The soccer ball sits in front of him, taunting him.

He stares at it.

He stares at it until it grows fuzzy, and suddenly, he is back in total darkness.

Total silence.

  
  


Louis’ eyelids feel like they’re made of lead weights. He keeps his eyes closed, but he can hear the steady beeping of a machine from somewhere near him.

He inhales slowly, his chest instantly exploding in a blaze of pain, and he grimaces. 

He still can’t open his eyes.

Louis’ hand twitches, and he registers the tight squeezing of something gripping his finger.

He can smell the clean, air conditioned air, and he hears soft, unfamiliar voices from around him. There is a faint breeze blowing on his face, and he can feel something resting against his face, in his nose. 

He forces his eyelids open, cringing as his eyes burn with the dryness. 

He takes a moment to let his spotty vision adjust, and he sees white, sterile walls in front of him, and to the right he sees a few machines, lit up in blue and red lights. 

Louis brings his hand up to his face, and feels plastic tubes wrapped around his ears and in his nose, and he can feel the short bursts of air shooting into his nostrils as he breathes.

He looks down at himself, and his eyes widen as he sees bandages wrapped tightly around his middle. 

_No, no, no, no, no._

Louis tries lifting his other hand, and winces as he feels a tugging at his skin. 

Seeing the IV in his vein sends a wave of nausea through him, and he can hear the rhythmic beeping speed up. 

“Louis?” He starts as he hears a woman’s soft voice from the right of him, and he slowly turns his head to face her, the pounding in his brain beginning to overwhelm him.

Anne sits in a brown chair, in front of a window with the curtains drawn. Louis can see sunlight peeking around the fabric.

She sits in the chair, a small, sad smile on her face, but Louis is no longer focusing on her.

Instead, his attention is solely on the boy, lying fast asleep with his head buried in her lap, Anne’s hands resting gently on his back and in his hair. 

His long hair is falling over his face, but Louis can see the beginnings of a dark blue and purple bruise blooming over his cheekbone. 

His shoulders rise and fall slowly, and his hands are clutching at a dark blue pullover that Louis recognises.

He looks peaceful, solemn, and still.

Louis stares at Harry, and feels his eyes prick. 

“Is he okay?” Louis whispers, his voice sounding gravelly and foreign, and Anne hums, looking down at her son. “He’s fine. Worried sick about you. But he’s fine.” Anne smiles at Louis, who swallows, ignoring the burn in his throat. 

“Where’s my mom?” Louis asks, attempting to readjust himself, and Anne tuts. “No, baby, stay still. You’ve got a few major bumps and scratches to worry about. Your mom and your sisters are on their way here. They left town the day before you came home, to get away from…” Anne’s voice drifts off, and Louis can see anger flash across Anne’s usually cheery face.

“Where is he?” Louis murmurs, and Anne sighs. “The police took him into custody, but one of his friends bailed him out early this morning.” 

Louis’ stomach twists, and he nods slowly. He looks back at his bandaged torso, and as a pain shoots through his face he lifts a finger to feel the stitches spanning his lower lip. 

“Your ribs took a hell of a beating. They think your lungs may be affected, so try not to breathe too heavily for right now. You’ve got a few stitches on your face, and you’re bruised all over, you’ll be sore for a while.” Anne’s hand cards steadily through Harry’s hair as she speaks, and Louis can hear soft snuffling from Harry as he smooshes his face into his mother’s thigh.

Louis’ chest aches, and not from the potentially bruised or broken ribs.

“He got hit because of me. I told him to leave, he wouldn’t leave.” Louis’ voice cracks, and he feels a tear drip onto his cheek and down the plastic tube.

Anne looks down at her son, and Louis watches her brush the hair away from his face. “You know he’d never leave you alone, Louis. He said that the only reason he left is because he saw me pull into the driveway.” Anne looks back up at him, the sad smile back on her face. 

“I’ve never seen someone who cared more about someone else than my son does for you. He wouldn’t leave your side, not even when the ambulance came. They had to physically restrain him to keep him from following the doctors into your room.” Anne chuckles softly, and shakes her head.

“He’s been here ever since they allowed him to be in the room. He stayed outside the door waiting, he just wouldn’t move. So if you think that he’d ever leave you, especially in a situation like that... He wouldn’t dream of it.” 

It was then that Harry finally stirred, his eyes fluttering open as he stretches around a yawn, and a tight smile tugs at Louis’ lips. Harry rubs at his eyes with a sniff, and looks in Louis’ direction.

Harry’s eyes fly wide open as he meets Louis’ eyes, and jerks up into a sitting position.  
“Lou.” Harry’s voice is painfully, beautifully rough, and Louis’ smile widens. “Hi baby.” Louis whispers, and Harry jolts to his feet with a soft sob. 

Louis can’t look away from his face. The bruise seems darker and scarier now that Louis can see it fully, covering Harry’s cheekbone and flowering onto his eye, swelling his lid and making his cheek puffy. Louis feels swirls of anger in his stomach, and as Harry drops to his knees to be eye level with Louis, he picks his hand up to touch Harry’s face tenderly.

“I’m so sorry.” Louis mumbles, his eyebrows furrowing, and Harry shakes his head violently, grabbing Louis’ hand tightly. “Stop. No. Don’t you dare start apologising to me, I won’t fucking let you.” Harry leans in close to Louis, his other hand cupping Louis’ cheek.

Louis can hear the door click, and he looks around Harry to see that Anne has exited the room. 

He hears Harry sniffle, and feels lips press to his hand. He turns his eyes back to Harry’s, whose gaze hasn’t left Louis’ face since he woke up. 

“I was so scared, Louis. You didn’t move. Not even when they tried to wake you up, you just stayed so, so still. And they wouldn’t let me come with you, and so I had to wait, and then I couldn’t see you, and I was so scared I’d never see you again.” Harry’s words tumble from his mouth like vomit, and Louis tries to lean closer to Harry, but the sharp pain in his chest renders him breathless. 

Harry’s other hand hovers over Louis, but he waves it away. 

“I’m okay. I’m here now, and I’m awake. I’m never letting this happen to you again.” Louis meets Harry’s eyes, eyes that are dark green and wide, and shakes his head, stroking Harry’s bruise. 

“I’ll never let anyone touch you again.”

  
  


When Anne returns to the room, Harry is lying in the hospital bed, as close as he could possibly be to Louis. His face is pressed into Louis’ shoulder as Louis’ cheek rests atop his head, and their hands are tangled in between them. 

She stands for a moment, watching them silently as the early morning bustle of the hospital occurs around her. 

Leaning against the door jamb, she wraps her arms around herself, and blinks away the tears that threaten to spill.

She watches her son nestle his face closer into Louis’ shoulder, and even in his sleep, he is gentle. 

Anne had called Louis’ mother after calling the police. 

Joanna had paid her a visit a few days after the boys had left, and had shakily explained that she was leaving Mark. Mark had become dangerous, and when he had found out about Louis, had threatened her son’s life. 

She had given Anne the location and phone number of where she and the children were going to be staying. 

“Make sure Louis comes straight to me”, Jay had said. “Don’t let him go home to Mark.”

Louis and Harry had come home from San Francisco a day early because Louis had wanted to make sure he had enough time to pack for training, Harry had explained to her through sobs. 

As Anne continues to take in the scene in front of her, a tear escapes. 

She hears a loud commotion from behind her then, and a frantic woman’s voice echo through the hallway.

“I’m a nurse here, let me through, where’s my son? I need to find my- oh, Anne!” 

Anne turns in time to see Joanna, face red and tear streaked as she runs up to her, and she smiles at Jay with an extended hand. “He’s still asleep.” Anne murmurs as Joanna falls into her arms, quiet sobs shaking the other woman’s body.

Joanna wipes her eyes, and takes a shaky breath in, and exhales as she looks into the room. 

Anne watches her face as she sees the two boys in the bed, and takes Jay’s hand. Jay looks at her, and laughs softly.

“He never actually told me, you know. I just… had a feeling, all this time.” Jay looks back at her son, and her shoulders droop for a moment. “I wish he’d have told me.” Jay’s voice drops to a whisper, and Anne squeezes her hand. 

“I know. Harry never really told me either. Figured it out one day when I caught him staring at a picture of Brian May.” Anne giggles, and Joanna glances at her, a small smile on her face. 

Anne squeezes her hand again, and gestures into the room. “Kick my son out if you want to talk to Louis. He won’t mind.” Anne steps away from the doorway, and Jay nods, smiling gratefully at her.

Anne turns and walks down the hallway, the heels of her shoes clicking as she hears a mother’s voice from the room behind her


	27. ‘Beautiful Boy’ - John Lennon

_ _ _

Louis gets the first glimpse of himself later that day, and he's shocked by how he actually looks.

He feels like shit, but he definitely looks worse, his face swollen and bruised, his lower lip split and stitched together, his arm in a sort of brace, and his torso wrapped tightly in bandages to keep his ribs from moving.

Harry is careful with him, gingerly helping him sit up or get a drink. Liam and Zayn show up, a worried glare creasing Liam's forehead, and Zayn paces in Louis' hospital room, angrily stomping around the room.

"How the fuck could they just let him go? He almost killed you, and the police just let some asshole take him?" Zayn sputters, kicking at the floor, and Liam groans, leaning his head on Louis' uninjured shoulder. "I don't even want to think about that. I'm so glad you're okay, Lou."

Louis chuckles lightly, ignoring the twinge in his ribcage, and pats Liam's lap. "I'm just peachy, Liam. I'll be up and running rings around you again before you know it."

Louis pretends to not see the pointed glance shared between Harry and Zayn, instead poking at Liam until he sits up, smiling wider.

The thing is, Louis doesn't even want to think about what's going to happen with soccer now.

As far as he's concerned, he's still scheduled to leave tomorrow for training. He's supposed to leave for the bus station at 5:15am, get to the airport by 7, and depart for Los Angeles. He's supposed to meet his future teammates and coaches, walk into his future locker room, step onto his future field in less than forty-eight hours.

But right now, he can hardly sit up on his own, let alone kick a soccer ball.

His mother, the nurse that she is, was quick to fill him in on all the exact issues that were wrong with him, and was adamant about him staying in bed.

She had cried when she saw him. She had held him as close and tight as she could, and had apologised more times than Louis could count.

He had asked her to call his NASL ambassador almost as soon as she had gotten there, and she had obliged. She still hasn't come in to tell him the outcome of the phone call, and he was getting more nervous by the minute.

Liam and Harry's hovering wasn't helping either, and Zayn's glowering by the window was just making Louis feel worse, if he was going to be honest with himself.

Louis is chewing on a plastic straw, fiddling with the wires still connected to his hand when Joanna comes back in the room, followed closely by a doctor that Louis recognises. He had been there through all of Louis and Liam's bumps and breaks as children, and on to their highschool athletics careers.

Harry stands from where he's leaning against Louis' bed, and Zayn and Liam sit straighter in the chairs by the window.

"You sure do have quite a fan club, Mr Tomlinson. Nice to see your supporters." the doctor winks in Liam's direction, and gestures to his leg. "How is the knee, Mr Payne?"

Liam grins sheepishly at the doctor's question. "Just fine, sir."

The doctor nods, and focuses his attention on Louis with a serious, somber expression.

"How are you, Louis?"

The simple question was almost enough to tip Louis over the edge. How the fuck does he think Louis is? His whole future has just been shattered and ruined indefinitely, does he expect him to be peaches and cream?

He just shrugs slowly. "Been better."

Jay sighs softly from where she stands next to the doctor, and he chuckles, examining his clipboard.

"Now, we've got some things to discuss. Would your friends like to step out for a few moments?" The doctor's question was obviously not a request, and Liam and Zayn oblige, Liam extending a thumbs up and a wide grin before exiting the room.

Louis glances to Harry, who is clenching his jaw as he steps away from the bed. "Where do you think you're going?" Louis hisses, panic rising in his chest thinking of Harry being anywhere more than a foot away from him, and Harry turns back to him, a confused frown on his face.

"I'm just going to be right outside." Harry gestures to the doorway, and Louis shakes his head. He looks to the doctor, grabbing at Harry's hand (not defiantly, or to prove a point. Not at all).

"Harry stays. Please." he says determinedly, and Harry looks nervously in between Louis, the doctor, and Joanna as he holds Louis' fingers a little tighter.

The doctor raises his eyebrows, but nods, looking back to his clipboard.

Louis looks up at Harry, who is watching him with an expression that Louis has seen before resting heavily on his face. Harry smiles at him, and rubs Louis' wrist with his thumb as he returns to sit in the chair next to the bed.

The news that the doctor gives is grim.

Louis has severe bruising and swelling on his lungs, a few cracked ribs, lacerations on his face, arms, and chest, and they're on the lookout for occasional internal bleeding.

He has a moderate concussion, which would explain the constant pounding and ringing in his head, and his nasal passages are blocked due to blood clots.

In other words, Louis is a fucking mess.

He stares at the blue blanket wrapped tightly around his legs, and chews on the inside of his lip, ignoring the sting he feels from the stitches.

"Does this mean I won't be able to go to training?" Louis asks, interrupting the doctor's spiel, and the doctor sighs, setting his clipboard down on a shelf next to the door. "That is... what it looks like currently. Unless we get the internal bleeding and your ribs under control, you won't be going anywhere for a week or two at least."

The doctor's words swirl around Louis' foggy mind. One or two weeks is crucial, especially in the beginning.

The others begin speaking now, but they all sound like the adults from Charlie Brown to Louis.

Womp, womp, womp.

_Your dreams are over._

_You'll never get out of here now._

Womp, womp, womp.

Louis feels a tight grip on his hand, and he looks up to where Harry is watching him, a pensive frown darkening his face.

Harry stands abruptly after a few more moments of intense staring, taking Louis' hand with him, and Louis winces as a jab of tense pain runs through his chest.

"Is there a phone somewhere I can use?" The determination in Harry's voice did not go unnoticed to Louis, who watches him with a wary glance.

"Where are you going?" he asks after the doctor directs him to the hallway, and Harry glances back at him. Louis can sense Harry's moment of hesitation, but before Louis can comment on it he feels the warm, familiar pressure of Harry's lips on his forehead.

Louis stares up at Harry, lips slightly parted as his eyes widen, taking in Harry's small, sheepish smile.

"I have to go make a call. I'll be right back." Harry leans in to whisper in Louis' ear.

"I love you."

Louis can't think to focus on the doctor or his mother as he watches Harry stride quickly out of the room, his ear still tingling.

Harry is gone for almost an hour.

Louis gets more nervous the longer he watches the hand on the clock, tick, tick, tick, slower and slower with each passing minute.

When he comes back, Zayn and Louis are cuddled up on the bed, doing the crossword puzzle in that day's paper, and Liam is humming along to a tune on the radio that he smuggled into Louis' room.

Louis' eyes fly up to where the boy is standing in the doorway, watching the scene in front of him with a fond smile on his face.

Harry looks tired, but satisfied, his hair is a mess, half of it falling out of its precarious bun, and as he walks towards Louis, Louis can see a small gift bag in his hand.

Harry carefully slides into bed on the opposite side of Louis, tucking himself perfectly against Louis' uninjured arm. Louis immediately twists (as far as he can) to look at Harry, eyebrows raised in question.

"Mind telling me where you ran off to for so long? They almost had to add a heart attack to the list of things wrong with me." Louis grumbles, picking up Harry's hand and folding their fingers together, the heart monitor bulky and cumbersome in between. 

Harry presses a soft kiss to Louis' shoulder, and sighs.

"You're probably going to be upset."

Harry's admission sends all the boys' eyes to his direction, and Louis can sense Zayn's pencil still over the newspaper. Louis doesn't move his eyes from Harry's face, and Harry looks up at him, chin set stubbornly.

"I called your sponsor and the board and told them to come talk to you."

Louis feels like he's sort of been sucker punched. To have his NASL sponsor here, to see him like this? What was Harry thinking, is he asking for them to revoke their offer?

His jaw drops, but Harry holds a hand up, continuing.

"I called them and told them to come because they deserve to know what happened, and you deserve to be able to have the chance to still prove yourself. You didn't work this hard to get here and have it all taken away from you, and I'm not going to let them give up on you, and I'm not going to let you give up on yourself."

Harry is sitting up straight by the time he's done speaking, his voice raising to a slightly manic pitch, staring at Louis with wet eyes, and Louis is staring right back. The wild, defensive determination in Harry's eyes quickly fades to something calmer, and Louis watches as he inhales deeply, his shoulders raising as his head hangs slightly.

"I know I should have told you what I was doing. And I'm sorry. But Jesus, Louis, you looked so ready to just give up and you looked like you were about to, and I couldn't let you do that." Harry's voice is barely a murmur, and it cracks as he finishes.

The room is silent for a few minutes, the radio all but a crackly background noise as their breathing and the ticking of the clock are the only sounds.

"You know he's right, Louis. You'd have hated yourself if you gave up everything you worked for." Liam's words from the other side of the room draw their eyes to him, and Louis can see that Liam is looking at him, face emotionless, and Zayn hums in agreement from where he's still lounging next to Louis.

Louis sighs, and rests his head back against the pillows, closing his eyes as the anxious knots in his stomach tighten.

"When are they coming?" Louis whispers hoarsely.

"By the end of the day today. Maybe six o'clock." 

Louis keeps his eyes closed, and he focuses on his breathing.

_In, and out._

He's going to talk to his sponsor, and they're going to keep him on.

_In, and out._

Louis talks to his sponsor, and a few members of the NASL board of directors alone that night.

He tells them everything. About his stepfather's attack, and why it happened. About Harry, and how he doesn't feel comfortable leaving Harry behind. About how hard he worked for this.

In the end, Louis feels a million pounds lighter, and the men around him thank him for his honesty. Louis had seen a few of them dart their eyes in between themselves when Louis had 'come out', but Louis chose to ignore it in favour of keeping a stone faced expression, one that showed that he wasn't to be deterred from his goals, no matter what they thought of him (or, so Louis hoped).

They had decided that Louis would make his appearance once given the okay to at least sit in on practices. No field play until fully cleared, and even then only limited until Louis was back in good shape.

They had also noted the possibility of Harry being able to travel with him, contingent on the votes of the board. "It proves his dedication, calling us the way he did. He's a good person to have in our favour", one of the board members had chuckled, and Louis felt a rush of ecstasy fill him.

Louis thanked them profusely, making sure they knew that their tentative choice would not be in vain.

After the board left Louis was left alone with his sponsor, who sits in a chair next to Louis' bed.

He tells Louis that he knew he was special, and that he was going to fight for his place in the league. "You deserve it", he had told Louis, "you're the type of fighter we need."

His sponsor had shaken his hand, and given him a smile.

"If you ever need anything, I'm only a phone call away", he had said before exiting the room.

Louis lets the facade drop once his sponsor is gone from the room, and he breaks into silent tears, his vision blurring as his head drops into his hands.

He cries harder than he's ever cried in his life then. The sobs are incredibly painful and silent, save from the occasional gasp as Louis loses his breath.

He cries for his lost plans. He cries for his future. He cries for his mother, and his sisters. He cries for his friends. He cries for his own sorry self.

He cries for Harry. His beautiful, miraculous Harry.

He cries because he is hopeful again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and there we have it. a crucial moment to a story that i hated to have to write, but was really important for me to include.  
> don’t hate me. thank you as always for supporting me and reading my fever dream of a work.  
> all the love always.  
> ~a


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